The Jabberwocky
by Timaelan
Summary: Vegeta's nature was far from being a caring father. Yet, due to some grim events, he starts to feel the need to watch his kids closer. Maybe he missed something. Dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning 1 : I don't own etc...**

 **Warning 2 : I don't speak English or at least not as good as I'd like. Which means this story is sort of experimental since it's the first time I try to write directly in English. So, forgive me for having such a poor style, I'm doing my best and it hurts. **

**Warning 3: I picked up a random rate, I'm not sure it's the right one, but I'm clueless about those goddam rates.**

 **Most important** **:** **Kalebxdd did me the favour to beta-read my work. He's much more gifted than me and I recommand you to go read his story (should I say especially White Lines?). That way, if my story doesn't please you, your time won't be totally wasted.**

* * *

 _November 3rd,_

 _Hey there. It seems some readers of this story have been pleased enough to have me nominated for 2016 Annual Award of the TPTH Community, a Vegebul Community you can find on google and tumblr. I have to thank them humbly for that. Being a very lame trader, I won't tell you to go vote for me but if you like this pairing and in case you don't know this community already, go and see the stories that have been nominated for I know some of the authors are really great._

 _Thanks a lot to grant me the honor of being nominated along with them, it means a lot to me :)_

 _Enjoy._

* * *

 **The Jabberwocky**

* * *

 **Chapter 1.**

The six-year-old was sitting on a tiny pink chair which looked very uncomfortable. Nevertheless, the girl didn't seem to care. She was still and motionless with her eyes locked on the paper lying on the table in front of her.

She kept running her paintbrush on the white sheet with studiousness.

Vegeta was leaning against the doorframe of the room. He'd been watching his daughter for ten minutes and she hadn't given him the slightest glance so far. She was without doubt aware of him being there, but she merely carried on with her task by applying every available color one over another.

She was so focused on her work that it was as if her meaningless painting was the most important thing in the world. Seing that she still didn't pay any attention to him, her father called her softly once more.

"Bulla."

As a reply, she plunged her paintbrush in the glass of water resting on the table and picked up a new color without even turning her head.

This was quite new to him. Usually, each time he ended up addressing someone he got full attention straight away. Not with that kid. She sometimes acted strangely, as if lost in her world. Bulma called it daydreaming and found it 'cute'. She'd explained to him that it was something normal for children that age, and she considered it as a sign of great creativity. Yet, the Saiyan couldn't remember his older son doing such thing. When he was younger, Trunks could be absentminded from time to time, but it had never come to the point of not paying attention when his father was there and calling him.

Bulla was still painting with great care, her little tongue sticking out.

"Bulla," he growled louder.

He used a harder tone this time, for he knew his rough voice had some magical effect on people, especially on little kids. However, the girl still wouldn't raise her eyes to him. He had the feeling she was ignoring him on purpose, and it started to get on his nerves.

He walked up to the tiny table and leaned on her to grasp her wrist.

"Bulla! I'm calling you, don't you hear?" he grunted.

Her big blue eyes widened in astonishement and she started. As he met her gaze, he was no longer sure if her surprise was feigned or genuine, so he softened a bit. She blinked, her dripping paintbrush still hanging above the paper. He sighed.

"Your mother says your dinner's ready."

She beamed at him, her smile was pierced by toothless holes. "I know," she replied gently.

He frowned. He was wondering how she could know such thing, since she was drawing quietly in the nursery while Bulma was downstairs in the kitchen. Anyway, kids were saying senseless things sometimes.

"I had to finish this. See? It's verryyyy important, but I'm done by now. Isn't it amazing?"

He looked down at the picture she'd been working on so badly. Since she had carelessly mixed all colors, it was only a big, brown mess. He pouted and stood straight.

"You should answer when grown-up speak to you. You might get in trouble otherwise," he said with an annoyed face.

He left the room and went downstair only to bump into Gloria. Hell, he hated that girl.

She was Bulla's babysitter. She always reeked of boys and cheap perfumes, and the Saiyan could say she liked men _a lot_. Lots of men. She was also always chewing some awful gum and her breath was forever tainted with a synthetic mint odor. Most of all, she talked a lot. And loudly. He couldn't stand her, but Bulla seemed to like her and she was the only one that still agreed to keep babysitting at the Briefs'.

"Hey, Mr. Briefs! It's been a while! So… You're on a ride tonight?" she asked with a disgusting, mischievous wink.

He could smell the scent of her brand new boyfriend on her and was almost nauseated. He glared at her, but she wasn't impressed at all and chuckled coarsely.

"You're not the social one, are you. Anyway, where's the little princess?"

"Glo-ri-a!" a voice sang from the top of the stairs.

Bulla jumped several steps at a time until she joined her babysitter.

"Hello Miss Bulla!" the young woman greeted by lifting the child in her arms.

"Hey, dinner! I called at least four times!" Bulma yelled from the kitchen's doorstep.

Gloria walked to her boss with the little girl still in her arms. Bulla whispered something in her ear and she laughed. Vegeta watched all the females disappearing noisily in the kitchen and went back to the gravity room.

Bulma and him were visiting the Sons for dinner tonight. He usually avoided those kind of meetings like plague, but Goku was back from his training with the Earthling brat for a short visit, and Vegeta was secretly hoping it would be a perfect opportunity for a good spar with him. Truth to be told, the Saiyan was also dreaming about a real homemade meal, and he knew Chichi was at least good at that.

Besides, Bulma needed to relax at those times. She was working hard on a project, and it made her so nervous all the time that it was no longer bearable for the house's other inhabitants. She even yelled at Bulla which rarely happened. She was getting on everyone's nerves, so Vegeta had thought a nice dinner with her friends would have her come down a little.

He deactivated the whole gravity room and locked it before going back to the house. When he entered his room, Bulma was wandering in her closet and looking for the perfect outfit, a single towel tied around her body.

"Remind me why we keep having this freaky babysitter," he said. "Trunks is old enough to watch his sister, don't you think?"

"Trunks? No way, I won't trust him for that. Remember?" Bulma answered from the closet.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and gave up arguing. He went into the bathroom and got undressed.

He hated that Gloria _._ However, he couldn't fully disagree with his wife. Their sixteen-year-old boy had turned rather weird in the two last years. He had become very secret and didn't share much with his parents anymore. Once again, Bulma found it rather 'normal' as he was a 'teenager'.

What she'd found less normal was the way he'd run away from home for a whole week the year before. It was still an unpleasant memory for Vegeta. Not that he'd worried very much but Bulma had been downright scared. Thus, the Saiyan had sought his son for days with Gohan's help but the little bastard had been awfully good at suppressing his ki, so they never found out where he was hiding.

As days went by, Trunks's disappearance had driven Bulma almost crazy, and it had become very hard for Vegeta to deal with the situation. Then, one morning, they'd found the fifteen-year-old quietly sleeping in his bed. He was rather dirty and seemed tired but not sorry or sad the least. Even rather joyful. He never told anyone where he had been or what he'd been doing, though.

Vegeta had suspected something about a girl. Bulma had imagined something about drugs. However, the boy never explained anything. "He's fragile. The teenage years are a hard time," Bulma had said. Yet, Vegeta didn't believe this explanation. Indeed, Trunks was far from fragile and he dealt rather good with his 'teenage years' or whatever Bulma called it.

The point was that the night he had run away, Trunks was supposed to watch his five-year-old sister, and he'd left her alone at home without a second thought. From that day, Bulma had decided he wasn't mature enough to be trusted on that matter.

The shower felt good. Vegeta was more relaxed when he got out the bathroom. Bulma was putting on her jewels in front of the mirror.

"Go check the kids while I'm getting ready, we're already late," she asked.

"We're always late, what's the point?" he mumbled while getting dressed.

She sighed and glared at him. "Could you, at least, sometimes _pretend_ you care for your children?"

"I'll do my best," he growled while slamming the room's door behind him.

He stepped into the corridor to Trunks's room. A picture of a grinning skull with flesh still sticking to the bones was hanging on the door. Letters dripping with red ink picturing blood were written under the grimacing face. _"You've been warned"_.

Vegeta didn't even look at the ridiculous poster, he knocked harshly at the door. He'd never considered knocking at doors before, but he had to admit that life with his family had taught him that little concessions could avoid a big headache.

The door opened an inch and Trunks's face appeared in the small gap. The boy had rings under his eyes and Vegeta wondered when the kid had some real sleep for the last time. The Saiyan didn't care that much for his son's private life though, and the question vanished from his brain very soon.

"Your mother and I are leaving to go to Mount Paozu. We'll be back in the night. The freak's watching Bulla. Can you live with that?"

"Sure. Have fun," Trunks answered with an emotionless voice.

He closed the door quietly without waiting for any other advice or question. Vegeta was used to a minimum of words with him lately, so he didn't bother. He headed to Bulla's room.

The little girl was in the nursery and watching TV. Gloria was nowhere to be seen. Vegeta frowned a bit and glanced at the clock. Wasn't it supposed to be _bedtime_ or some shit like that?

He stepped in. Bulla was sitting on the ground. She seemed mesmerized by the movie.

"Hey, girl!" Vegeta called, "Where's that freak of…"

He interrupted himself as something strange had caught his eyes. He walked closer to the child. She hadn't even turned to him and was still focused on the screen.

"What the hell..." the Saiyan mumbled as he came closer from the TV.

It was showing a screaming woman stabbed by a guy with a huge knife. Rivers of blood were dripping on her white skin and she was crying frantically. Bulla was watching with a faint frown as if she was trying to understand what was going on.

Vegeta froze for an instant and his eyes wandered in the room seeking for the remote. He couldn't locate the item but he was feeling a growing urge to turn the movie off. Without thinking further he just dropped the TV on the ground and it blew up into pieces with a deafening noise. The device released some light smoke and expelled some sparkles before turning black and silent.

Bulla had jumped a little but didn't say anything. She was still sitting on the ground contemplating the useless, half-burnt TV.

"What were you watching? Where is your damn babysitter?" Vegeta hissed.

Bulla looked up at him. She was frowning deeper and he was surprised to spot anger in her blue, childish eyes.

"You broke it!" she yelled accusingly.

"I couldn't find the remote, where's…"

"It was MY TV and you broke it! Why did you do that, you're mean!"

Vegeta was taken aback by his daughter's reaction.

"Don't talk to me that way, brat! You were watching something you're not supposed to see and I'm the one to decide whether you have a TV or not!"

Bulla had gritted teeth and her aura was unexpectingly flaring.

"That movie was cool! Besides, Trunks told me you did those kind of bloody things yourself when you were a kid, so why shouldn't I see it?"

"Trunks told you what?!" Vegeta exclaimed in disbelief.

Bulla stood up and the chandelier above Vegeta's head began to swing dangerously. He had a glance at it and understood straight away that the little girl's ki was getting out of control. He knew he had to cool down, otherwise he wouldn't have much choice but to knock her out and Bulma would get under his skin for weeks.

He stepped back.

"Ok, Bulla, calm down now. Where's Gloria? Why don't you have your pyjamas on?"

"For God's sakes! What's going on here?" Bulma's voice asked angrily in his back.

"He broke my TV!" Bulla yelled, pointing at her father.

Bulma sighed and walked to her daughter to pat her head.

"He did that?" she said softly.

"Yeah! He did it _on purpose_ ," the child added in an appalled tone.

Bulma peeked at Vegeta.

"I couldn't find the remote and…"

"Whatever! Could you once in a while take care of the equipment?" she hissed.

She kissed her daughter. "Mum will get you a brand new one. A bigger one," she hushed lovingly.

Bulla's ki went down gradually. Bulma took her in her room to have her put her pyjamas on. She explained her with a soothing voice that her father was weird, sometimes, but that he loved her anyway.

The Saiyan gazed at the chandelier that was still slightly swinging. He was himself still nervous about what just happened. The brat's energy had flared up so quickly and so dangerously. He would have had no trouble dealing with it but if this kind of things happened out of the house, it could be dreadful.

He sighed and wondered once again where the freaking babysitter had been the whole time. He went downstairs and found her sitting in the kitchen.

"Victoria!" he miscalled.

She was perched on a stool and showing him her back. As he stepped closer to her he realized she was gazing absently at nothing in particular while mechanically eating Bulla's plate.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he groaned.

She didn't answer. She didn't even look at him. She kept on eating Bulla's vegetables. Vegeta frowned and waved his hand in front of her. She didn't react.

"Hey!" he yelled all of a sudden.

She blinked at last. She swallowed the vegetables.

"Mr Briefs? What's up?"

"What are you doing here? Eating my daughter's plate while she's upstairs watching freaking movies in the nursery?"

"Wha… What?" the girl stammered.

She looked lost for a while. She finally rested the plate and forks and stood up awkwardly.

"I… I better go check on her."

"Yeah. Do that. I think that's what my wife pays you for."

He watched her leaving the kitchen with concern. Something was wrong. He couldn't say what. He remembered Bulla's mesmerized look while she was watching this awful bloody movie.

He had to talk to Trunks. He had downright no desire to do that. He wasn't gifted to 'talk', it was always Bulma's matter. Humans like to talk a lot and they had the strong belief it could solve a lot of issues. Yet, Vegeta was no human and he had never practiced the 'talking' solution. As far as he was concerned, he would rather stay at a good distance from the children's troubles. However, he knew Bulma would freak out if he told her what happened with Bulla. He remembered her panic when Trunks ran away and he didn't feel like renewing this experience.

"Ready to go, warrior?"

He looked up to find out Bulma was standing on the doorstep. He realized that she was looking beautiful and furthermore, she was looking cheerful. She would only call him warrior when she was in a good mood and it was exactly what he was craving for. A wonderful, loving, peaceful spouse **.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone. First of all, thanks a lot for the reviews and the supporting follow/favorite things._

 _Some of you might be following my fic "Don't speak" and I wanted to tell them that I won't let it down. My beta-reader just needs time for personal reasons but we'll hold on til the end, I promise._

 _About this one, I forgot to say some characters might turn OOC but not your big, favorite one, don't worry. My chapter are quite short and I'm sorry about that but hey, my brain's bleeding from writing them in English so I do my best._

 _And the most important thing: this chapter was beta-read by **Kalebxdd** and this is why you might understand everything I wrote. Go and see his work, you'll like it._

* * *

 **Chapter 2.**

It was six o'clock in the morning. The room was silent except for Bulma's faint breathing. Vegeta gazed at his wife's motionless body among the sheets. They'd returned home very late the night before and they had extended the evening before falling asleep, so he suspected she would only wake up at the last minute to take Bulla to school.

Bulma was drained, but the most important thing was that last night had made her cheerful again. Vegeta wasn't the least interested in her work, but he'd understood that it was a part of her life and that it could affect her mood, which meant it could affect his own life by rebound. So, he was glad to see her peaceful again.

Vegeta wasn't used to sleep very much and now that he was awake, he had no hope to rest anymore . He got up and left the room without a sound.

It was still dark outside and there was no noise in the quiet house. Bulla probably wouldn't wake up for another hour and Trunks… Well, Trunks had a weird rhythm anyway.

The Saiyan reached the kitchen and started to get his breakfast ready. The moment he sat down to eat, he heard the house's main door unlock. Someone entered the hallway. The steps paused for an instant, then the newcomer headed to the kitchen.

Trunks showed up with a motorcyclist's helmet hanging from his arm. He still had those shadows under his eyes. He smiled at his father and came into the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad,", he greeted.

Vegeta didn't answer but looked up at him. The teenager sat at the table opposite from him and rested the helmet on a chair. He seemed in a good mood.

"Were you out the whole night?" Vegeta asked flatly.

"I guess," Trunks answered absently.

The kid picked up food from his father's dishes and began to eat without much manners and without bothering to get a plate for himself. Vegeta gave up the idea to point out that his son was eating _his_ breakfast. He focused on their talk instead.

"Your mother doesn't like it when you go out without warning her, you know that," the Saiyan said.

"I Know. Well, in fact, you yourself do a lot of things she doesn't like and still, she keeps you… So, I'll take my chances."

Vegeta frowned a bit. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to reply to that. Was Trunks being cheeky? Should Vegeta remind him he had to respect Bulma's authority? He had no clue. He was so bad at handling his children's education. He was rather lonely in nature and he never had much interaction with people, even with his kids.

A black stain on his son's arm suddenly caught his eye. He grabbed Trunks' limb and pulled it closer to examine it.

Trunks beamed and rolled up his sleeve in order to disclose the huge picture of a black, twisting dragon along his arm.

"Like it?" he asked with a hint of pride.

"What the fuck is this?" Vegeta wondered.

"It's called a tattoo. It's engraved in my skin, you know."

Vegeta looked at his son with bewilderment.

"It took one month to have it entirely done" Trunks clarified.

"What's the point of having such a foolish thing printed on your skin?" Vegeta asked.

"It makes you unique."

Vegeta frowned in disbelief and let go of his son's arm. Trunks smirked at him and resumed his meal.

Vegeta watched him thoughtfully. His son's answer made him aware that Trunks had changed somehow. Beside the fact that he was growing up and that his tastes were obviously different, there was something else and Vegeta couldn't put his finger on it.

In the Saiyan standard, a sixteen-year-old was considered as a grown up, but it was mostly because at that age a Saiyan had gone through a lot already. Trunks wasn't that type. On Earth, everything was peaceful and younglings like him had time to grow up. They had time to muse about life a lot, and everything was slower to come out. There was no urge to be responsible and mature in such an existence.

However, Vegeta had started to regard his son as a grown-up at the age of fourteen. When Trunks had run away from home, the Saiyan had understood that Bulma didn't see things that way. She considered that Vegeta and her still had to protect him and to act like parents. At that time, Vegeta had learned a grown-up was technically someone over 18 here on Earth.

Trunks was half-blooded and his father wondered if his son had been torn between two cultures at some point. Being a grown-up in his father's eyes and a kid in his mother's. Maybe this was confusing him and that was why his behaviour was sometimes so disturbing.

Vegeta didn't care for the tattoo. It was a strange Earth custom and the Saïyan had already seen tattooed people. What bothered him the most was the reason why Trunks felt the need to engrave anything on his skin ' _to make him unique_ '. Vegeta could say the stupid tattoo was of no use to make his son unique because he was already freaky enough.

Vegeta remembered suddenly what his daughter had told him about her brother, the night before, when he'd destroyed her TV.

"By the way, what did you tell your sister, boy?"

"About what?"

"About me killing people when I was a kid?"

Trunks raised an eyebrow and took the time to chew and swallow his food before answering. He didn't seem to be caught off guard by the question.

"Isn't it true?", the teenager asked.

Vegeta pursed his lips in order to display his growing irritation.

"Maybe. That's not the point anyway. Why the hell did you say that to your six-year-old sister?"

"Well… Cause she asked me," Trunks replied matter-of-factly.

Vegeta sighed.

"She wanted to know things about your childhood, and she knew you wouldn't tell her anything. Would you ? » Trunks added.

"Why did you tell her _this_? She still believes a stupid rabbit comes every year to hide chocolate eggs in the garden!"

The teenager blinked as if he didn't understand his father's question.

"I told her because it was the truth. Besides, it doesn't prevent the rabbit from existing in her mind, anyway."

Vegeta's palm suddenly slammed against the table and the dishes jumped.

"You don't know anything about what I did when I was a kid! Your sister doesn't need to hear anything about blood and death, did you hear me?"

Trunks froze and raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Okay, okay… I just thought…"

"Don't think! Keep your weird ideas away from her!" Vegeta exclaimed.

The teenage smiled weakly.

"Got it," he mumbled.

Trunks resumed his breakfast but Vegeta could see him glancing at him from time to time.

"How old were you the first time you killed someone?" Trunks asked again after a while.

Vegeta glared at him but didn't answer.

"Hey Dad, Bulla is too young, okay. But you can tell me. We all know you killed a lot of people before landing on Earth and everyone forgave you but you never talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," Vegeta cut off coldly.

Trunks licked off the food crumbs on his lips. He ignored his father's deadly look and smiled to him. Vegeta wondered when Trunks had become so confident in front of him.

"Let's make a deal. Let's have a spar. If I can punch you once, then you answer my question."

Vegeta frowned. What did the brat have in mind to make such a crappy offer ? The Saiyan realized that Trunks was handling the whole discussion like a game. Vegeta felt both offended and infuriated. It was so disrespectful in a way. The boy needed a harsh lesson.

The Saiyan wiped his mouth with his napkin and swallowed his last mouthful.

"Done deal," he growled with a disturbing smirk.

Trunks was still grinning when they got up and headed to the Gravity Room. The boy dressed off while his father turned on each machine one by one.

"Dad, just a thing, school's at eight so I have to leave in an hour," Trunks clarified while stretching.

"Do you think you'll still be standing on both legs by that time?" Vegeta retorted.

Trunks chuckled.

"I _know_ I will. It's just… We'll have to stop as soon as you get your punch."

Vegeta bit his lips and tried to hide his bewilderment at his son's arrogance. However, strangely enough, the Saiyan didn't feel much anger about the boy's behaviour. He was more puzzled by his confidence. They hadn't sparred together for a long time and all of a sudden, Vegeta thought that maybe Trunks had trained further on his own in secret. The idea seemed exciting and interesting.

Both fighters stood at opposite ends of the room and at the signal they started the spar.

Vegeta was straight away caught off guard by his son's speed. The easy way the youngling anticipated and dodged each hit was unexpected. He'd improved a lot. Yet, the Saiyan got quickly accustomed to his swift moves and Vegeta merely increased his own speed in order to keep up with his opponent.

Trunks hadn't only reinforced his speed but also his strength, though. Vegeta found it surprisingly hard to contain his son's blows. The Saiyan had to admit Trunks had become a rather good fighter since the last time they sparred and his father couldn't help but to feel impressed about the teenager's skills.

Yet, it wasn't enough. Trunks still wasn't as cunning as he should. Vegeta allowed him to come closer. He could read the rage in his blue eyes; the boy was eager to succeed. Eager to the point of being oblivious about any basic caution. The Saiyan could see his son wasn't careful anymore and the hope to give the winning punch was blurring his thoughts.

As soon as the kid was close enough, with his balled fist rushing toward his father's jaw, Vegeta blocked his wrist and sank his knee in the boy's gut.

Trunks gasped loudly and spat a bit as he froze his move immediately. Vegeta let go of him and watched him falling harshly on the ground. Too bad the kid had been trustful enough to believe he had jeopardized his father so easily.

For an instant, the only sound in the room was Trunks's panting. The teenager was kneeling on the ground and holding his aching belly. Vegeta stepped to him and crouched in order to be at his level.

"Not bad," the Saiyan stated with a smirk.

Trunks looked up at him and smiled.

"Still not enough, though," Vegeta added.

Trunks swallowed and caught his breath.

"So, you won't answer my question?" he asked.

Vegeta frowned. His son's persistence made him uneasy somehow but he couldn't explain why.

"No. Why do you want to know in the first place?" the Saiyan grunted.

Trunks shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"I was wondering. I have been wondering a lot of things lately," he replied in a casual tone.

Vegeta looked at him thoughtfully. He'd never confessed the details of his former life to anyone. It was his secret in a way and he didn't feel any need to talk about it. Besides, knowing the Earthling's culture, he was pretty sure no one would understand. It was useless to freak them out with old, forgotten stories. Yet, Trunks wasn't utterly earthling in the end.

"The first time I killed someone, I was much younger than you are now," the Saiyan mumbled.

A light flashed in the boy's blue eyes.

"Were you ? How old exactly?" he asked further.

"You're gonna be late at school and your mother will yell through the whole house like a mad woman," Vegeta sighed.

He stood up straight and crossed his arms.

"Why won't you tell me? Who was it? Why?" Trunks resumed with glee.

"The discussion is over. Should I remind you, you didn't punch me as you were supposed to ?"

Trunks got up and pouted.

"Clear off," Vegeta ordered.

"I'll be back on it," the teenager announced with a smirk.

Vegeta watched his kid walking out the Gravity room. He was proud of his son and, at this very moment, he could swear he understood what love was. Yet, he couldn't prevent a slight unexplainable concern from clouding his feelings. His boy was weird. Both his children were weird indeed. Or maybe was Vegeta the weird one?

o0oo0p


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey, thanks for your support._

 _Special thanks to sensei **kalebxdd** for beta-reading this chapter again._

 _Hope you'll like it_

* * *

 **Chapter 3.**

Vegeta liked running. It was a meaningless effort to him but it had the virtue of making him peaceful. He enjoyed the stillness it provided him. His body was acting mechanically while his brain remained blank the whole time, and his mind was somehow cleared from any concern. Besides, he'd noticed that Humans seemed to consider runners with a particular respect and no one ever bothered him during his jogging. Whenever he met people, they would part from his way and avoid talking to him in fear of slowing him down.

He needed two hours of running to forget his weird morning spar with his son and feel good enough to head back to home. It was a grey afternoon but the sky was still reluctant to release its rain.

When he entered the house, Bulma was in the hallway just coming home from God knows where. She had a worried face and Trunks was standing by her side with his eyes glued to the ground. Straight up, when the Saiyan saw them, he knew something had gone wrong. Bulma seemed relieved to find him back and it was unusual for Trunks to be home so early.

"Vegeta, something happened at Trunks' school, I had to pick him up. Bulla's school is over in ten minutes. Go and get her, please," she asked with a nervous voice.

He frowned at the idea.

"Why?" he grunted with annoyance.

"I have to stay with Trunks, just go, now," she hissed while hanging her coat. She was acting with unease and it was clear that she had no desire to argue.

He stared at his son. Trunks's face was quiet and stern and he looked back at his father with an unruffled face.

"Can't the freak do it?" Vegeta objected once more, addressing his wife.

"Gloria lives on the other side of the town and I'm not even sure she's available right now. God, could you help once in a while?" Bulma mumbled with irritation.

Then she pulled Trunks further in the kitchen without waiting for her husband's reply. The Saiyan watched them walking away. He didn't like it. Bulma sending him to school to pick up Bulla had never occurred before. His wife was too afraid of any social interaction between him and any human being. Yet, today something was bothering her even more.

"And make sure the teacher doesn't see you flying like a freaky alien, please!" Bulma yelled in addition.

He sighed and eventually stepped out the house.

Bulla was the last kid left. She was standing in front of the school's main door next to a young woman, which Vegeta supposed to be her teacher. The little girl seemed lost in her thoughts again. She was muttering a nursery rhyme while contemplating and counting her fingers. She didn't notice her father until he stood right in front of her. She beamed at him straight away.

"Dad!" she exclaimed.

The young woman looked at Vegeta awkwardly.

"Are you Bulla's father?" she asked with a hesitant voice.

She had a strange way of speaking. She uttered each word very slowly and exaggerated the movement of her lips. In fact, she looked like a total moron.

"It's me," he replied with a frown.

Her eyes widened and she seemed puzzled for a while.

"You… speak? Do you hear me too?" she stammered.

"Well, unfortunately yes, I do."

The woman frowned in confusion and looked down at Bulla.

"Bulla, why on Earth did you tell us your dad was deaf-mute?"

Vegeta gasped and glared at his daughter. She giggled.

"Sometimes he is," she chuckled.

"Bulla, such joke aren't funny! You shouldn't lie that way!" the teacher lectured.

The young woman raised sorry eyes on Vegeta. He had gritted teeth. His daughter definitely had strange ideas sometimes.

"Mr. Briefs, I'm sorry for this. You know, Bulla has a great imagination and well, sometimes it… "

"Whatever. Okay, girl, let's go home now," he cut her off.

He grasped his daughter's tiny hand in his firm fist, ready to step away. However, the teacher lifted her hand in order to stop him.

"Mr Briefs, would you please remind your wife she has to come see me? And, of course, you're welcome to attend our meeting about Bulla too," she offered.

He shrugged.

"I'm busy," he mumbled.

He walked away with Bulla's hand still in his and prevented himself from flying off, as he could feel the teacher's eyes still locked on him. He looked down at his daughter. She was hardly taller than his hip. She was back counting her fingers and murmuring a childish song.

"Bulla, why did you say such nonsense about me being deaf-mute?" he asked in disbelief.

Her big blue eyes met his and she gave him a mischievous smile.

"Cause you're somehow special but mum doesn't want me to talk about that at school so I had to find something else to explain to people that you're not like any other dad."

He rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"And, you know… I spoke with the Jabberwocky about the TV you broke. I was afraid he would go really mad but finally he wasn't angry. He said it didn't matter that much in the end. So don't worry, everything will be fine," the little girl added.

The Saiyan raised an eyebrow. The Jabberwocky was Bulla's _imaginary friend_ , another weird thing about her. He'd never heard of such a thing before, but it was seemingly something frequent for Earthling kids. At least, Bulma said so. And she wasn't downright concerned about her daughter's odd habit, so Vegeta bet it was fine to pretend Bulla had a friend called Jabberwocky that no one could see. It didn't bother him anyway.

"You can't imagine how relieved I am. In any case, I don't want you to watch those bloody movies again," he grunted.

"Too bad, they're kind of cool, though."

"They're not cool. Death is not cool. Didn't the Jabber-whatever tell you that?"

"Nope. I don't think the Jabberwocky minds those creepy things. He's very strong and fears nothing," the girl shrugged.

Vegeta smirked. "He can't be stronger than me."

Bra blinked for a while as if thinking deeply about her father's statement.

"Yes, but he's still growing up, so maybe one day he willl be."

Vegeta scowled. Why the hell did he start talking with his six-year-old daughter about her imaginary friend, anyway?

"Whatever, just do what _I_ say and everything's gonna be alright," he mumbled with annoyance.

They landed on the house's porch just when the rain started to fall. When they came into the house, Bulma was alone in the kitchen. She had an apron on, which immediately rose Vegeta's suspicion. She never wore aprons. She never truly cooked either. She would only have this awful garment on when she felt like playing the perfect mother, or worse, the perfect cook.

She beamed at her daughter.

"Hey, miss. Did you have your snack? I guess not, so I baked cookies for you, look!"

Bulla gave an enchanted cry and rushed to sit at the table where hot, steaming biscuits were resting on a plate. Vegeta squinted at her wife. Her talk was too loud and too cheerful to be true. Something was on.

"Where's Trunks?" he asked with curiosity.

"He's taking a rest in his room. I'm going to bring him some cookies too, he liked them so much."

Saying so, Bulma grabbed a second plate of cookies and disappeared upstairs. Vegeta mused about the situation for a while.

"What's up dad?" Bulla's voice asked. She was gnawing a cookie with caution.

"No idea."

"The cookies are awful, they're almost burnt and I bet she forgot to add sugar," the girl whined.

She kept on eating them though. He knew she would never tell her mother about the cookies being inedible. Although she could be downright uninterested by her father, Bulla always deeply cared for her mother. She could even be a bit protective from time to time. Vegeta thought it was a good thing.

The time Bulla was done fighting the terrible biscuits, Bulma came back. She still had her plate full of cookies in her hand.

"Bulla-honey, go and start your homework, please. I'll come and check it in five minutes," she announced.

Bulla obliged without a word, leaving her plate empty. Vegeta's back was leaning against the wall. He had wanted to wait for his wife in order to know what was going on. He could already feel that Bulma wasn't as joyful as the day before. She looked disappointed when she rested her plate back on the kitchen counter.

"Trunks didn't want any cookies, he said he wasn't hungry," she sighed.

"What happened at his school?"

"Something horrible," Bulma whispered.

Bulma sat on the stool her daughter had just left and looked down at the girl's empty plate with a hint of dejection.

"A girl died. The school told me she felt from the roof-top and according to the head teacher, she was Trunks' girlfriend. The teachers thought it better for Trunks to take some days off home, so I picked him up," she explained.

Vegeta could perceive Bulma's nervousness and he was aware that this matter had shattered her casual mood. She was picking the cookies' crumbles off the table one by one.

"I didn't even know he had a girlfriend. How could it be possible ? Did you notice anything related to him having a girlfriend?" Bulma sighed.

The question was rather senseless. Vegeta wasn't the type to notice anything like that. However, he felt Bulma was hurt by the fact she hadn't seen anything and she needed to be reassured.

"The brat is so secretive. He wouldn't confess anything to us about a girlfriend. How could we know if he didn't tell us?", he replied.

"Mothers always see this sort of things," Bulma objected with a weak voice.

"Bullshit. Believe me, if Trunks doesn't want you to know about something, you have no means to guess."

She looked up at him with a slight smile. She knew he had a hard time to find the right words to make her feel better. He was usually so bad at comforting people and he hated it.

"I know he's feeling bad about her death. Can you imagine a sixteen-year old? Dying so unexpectedly? How terrible…" she resumed in a sad tone.

Vegeta suppressed his desire to tell her he'd met so many sixteen-year-old that had died unexpectedly that he couldn't count them. It was about another time and another place.

"I'm worried for him, you know. I have the feeling he's been withdrawing into himself more and more recently. I fear he'll run away again, and what happened today isn't going to help," Bulma added.

"You're overprotective. He's just letting go of his mother's skirt and you don't accept it. He's quite a man after all."

Bulma blinked and pursed her lips in disbelief. Yet, as much as she would deny it, she knew he was right in the end.

In secret, she had taken advantage of one of Trunks's blood test to check any drugs hint in it. She'd been relieved to find nothing but a very slight THC rate. She was compromising enough to accept that her teenage boy had met Mary-Jane and the quantity was so low that it couldn't be a regular habit. Besides, she had never seen him drunk. Furthermore, his grades were above average and he had a social life, even if Bulma didn't know all of his friends.

He was brilliant, he was handsome, he was nice to her. Any mother would have dreamed of such a son. Thinking about it, Bulma wouldn't be able to explain the exact reason for her concern about Trunks. However since his unexplainable runaway the year before, she couldn't help but worry.

She ended up smiling at her husband. She'll just have to make sure Trunks would get through this girl's awful death as well as possible.

 **o0ooo0o**


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi. Thank you so much for all the nice things. They help a lot._

 _ **Kalebxdd** helped a lot_ _too, since he beta-read this chapter again. The best way to thank him is to go and see his work if you don't know it, yet. Besides you'll have a good time too, I promise._

* * *

 **Chapter 4.**

Bulla was crying. Vegeta tried to ignore her for a while with the sly hope that Bulma would wake up. However, he knew there were little chance for it to happen since she'd taken her blue pills. Those pills were rather miraculous and they would allow Bulma to fall asleep even if a storm were about to crush the whole house. Finding the blue tablets on her nightstand had been an obvious sign for Vegeta that his wife was back to a restless mood.

The brat's voice was now vibrating with an exaggerrated despair which sounded more like impatience. Bulla wouldn't give up her whining. The Saiyan repressed an annoyed grunt and stood up. He sneaked out the dark room, along the corridor and through the nursery to Bulla's room. She had her little pink night light on and it casted an eerie light on the walls.

The child was sitting in her bed with her face stained with tears. She stopped crying as soon as her father showed up. When he met her eyes, he understood that she'd been expecting to see Bulma.

"Your mother's asleep, she's very tired and really needs to rest. What's the matter?" he asked with a stern voice.

She rubbed her cheeks. "I'm sad. Becky's dead," the girl mumbled.

Vegeta sat on the tiny bed with caution. "So? Who's Becky? Did you have a nightmare?"

"Becky. Trunks's friend."

Vegeta frowned. "You knew that girl from your brother's school?"

"She was so nice, but now she's… gone."

The Saiyan patted his daughter's head in an awkward gesture. "Yeah, she's gone. There's nothing we can do about it. You've met her before?"

Bulla pouted while cupping her teddy bear. "She had a nail in her nostril. And another one on her tongue. I wonder if someone used a hammer to put them in her skin."

Vegeta had a weak smile at the thought. While listening to Bulla telling about that girl's nail in her nostril, he was relieved to realize that Trunks might not be the weirdest kid on Earth after all. He gently patted the child's hair again.

"Whatever, she was really nice, I'm sad she died," Bulla sighed. "Trunks was mean with her sometimes."

The Saiyan looked down at the little girl. He couldn't help but ask. "Really?"

"Yes. He spoke badly to her, and yet she liked him anyway. He's an ass."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, not sure whether she was allowed to use those words. Nevertheless, he didn't comment on what she said. He realized that Bulma would describe their own relationship the very same way. Trunks had somehow grown up to be like his father. It was rather logical but Vegeta hadn't suspected it so far.

"I'm tired," Bulla whispered. She pressed her teddy bear tightly against her chest and rubbed her eyelids with a yawn.

"Because it's time to go back to sleep."

The girl laid down back under the comforter and closed her eyes. He stood up to leave the room and glanced at his daughter a last time before stepping out. Everything was silent again except for a weak murmur coming from Trunks's room.

Vegeta thought about the strange death of his son's friend. It hadn't affected the Saiyan very much except for the mess it had caused in the house. Now, hearing Bulla speaking of her, he realized that this unknown girl, about which he wouldn't give a damn, had turned the entire family upside down. Bulma considered the whole matter like something terrible and Vegeta wondered if Trunks himself was as disturbed as his mother and sister. Bulma was sure his son was in deep shock, but she always overreacted about her children. She lost her cool very easily about anything related to them, so Vegeta didn't always trust her instinct. Especially when it came to Trunks.

Trunks was supposed to be sort of grown up already in the Saiyan's mind. Besides, the boy had seen many fights already and he had experienced violent events when he was younger, so at first sight Vegeta doubted he wouldn't be able to deal with his friend's death. However, Vegeta wasn't completely sure of it. Trunks was very secretive and his father sometimes had the feeling he didn't know the boy as well as he thought. The spar they had a few days ago had strengthened that feeling a little bit more.

The Saiyan paused in front of the grinning skull and rested his hand on the doorknob of Trunks's room. He could hear a low mumbling coming from inside. Very likely the TV.

He opened the door with caution and peeked inside the room.

It was a huge mess. He hadn't entered this room since… he couldn't remember the last time. Gloomy posters he'd never seen were hanging on the wall. The desk was overcrowded with books and papers and a big computer had been plugged in on a table in a corner. The bed had changed too. It wasn't the little wooden bed Trunks had as a child. It was a king-size bed very similar to his parents'. It was unmade and the whole room reeked. The youngling likely never opened his windows and the Saiyan could even smell the slight odor of cold tobacco.

His eyes roamed around the room in search of his son. The teenager was sprawled among big cushions spread on the floor just in front the giant TV. The screen was the only light on.

Vegeta stepped in silently. Trunks had his back to him and didn't seem to notice his entrance.

The Saiyan walked closer. A video game was playing on TV. A soldier with a shotgun was running left and right shooting other soldiers and monsters. Trunks was handling the gamepad frantically and his eyes were glued to the screen.

Vegeta stopped a few inches from him and crossed his arms.

"Not tired?" he grunted.

Trunks jumped and tossed his head backward to find his father right above him. In the dim light, Vegeta could see he had bloodshot eyes.

"Hey… Dad. Didn't hear you. Haven't you heard of knocking?" Trunks asked with a raspy voice.

"Haven't you heard of sleeping?" Vegeta replied.

Trunks chuckled and ran his hand in his hair. "Tried but can't."

"Is it about the girl?"

Trunks frowned and sat straight. He rested his gamepad and rubbed his eyes. "Why do you care?" the teenager asked with a yawn.

"Well, your mother said it was something serious for you. I wanted to see it for myself."

Trunks stretched and scratched his head with a thoughtful expression. Then, he shrugged. "She's dead, it sucks, but there's nothing I can do about it, right?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He didn't expect his son to take the whole matter so well.

« Your mother said that this girl was your girlfriend and she feared her death would… »

"No, it's okay Dad ," Trunks interrupted. "She wasn't really my girlfriend, you know. I mean, we screwed once, but she was mostly a friend and we used to hang around together, I'm gonna miss her for sure but I'll get over it, if that's the point."

Vegeta nodded. Deep inside his mind, his son's speech surprised him. It was so far from an Earthling's reaction. Yet, Trunks's behaviour was in fact very close to his own and the Saiyan couldn't help but to feel glad about it.

"I know you will. Just, don't tell your mother about the 'screwing' part. She wouldn't like to hear you talk like that. She was already pretty pissed to hear you had a girlfriend without her knowing it."

Trunks chuckled again. Vegeta headed back to the door.

"Hey Dad!" Trunks called.

The Saiyan stopped and turned back to him.

"You never care. Why did you come?" the boy asked.

Vegeta found that was a good question and the answer didn't come to his mind straight up. Trunks was right, most of the time; his father hardly felt concerned by the Earthlings' little drama, even when it was about his own children. He had always considered everything was fine as long as everyone was alive and the house still stood untouched with enough energy to activate the Gravity Room. However, lately he had the feeling something was wrong in his own house and he was unable to pinpoint what it was. Thinking about it, it had all begun with Bulma's reaction to Trunks's running away. Back at that time Vegeta had hated the frantic, constant fear in her eyes which had somehow reflected his own helplessness. He intended to never let this happen again, at any cost.

"Your mother is so freaked out, so I wanted to check for myself how you were doing. You drive her crazy most of the time, do you know that?"

Trunks beamed. "She's so emotional all the time," he answered with a shrug.

"I know. That's why I want you to act as normal as possible."

Vegeta walked out the room and closed the door behind him. Standing in the corridor, he paused for a while. Trunks was fine, he stated. As he had suspected it, the strange mix between his human and his Saiyan side was making him a weird and confusing kid, but he was fine. While drawing this conclusion, he heard Trunks's door getting locked.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	5. Chapter 5

_Ciao. Great thanks for the support._

 _I won't disclose anything from the coming plot but I liked your questions anyway._

 _So, **Khalebxdd** beta-read this chapter again. He's even more gifted to write his own story, go and see it by yourself._

* * *

 **Chapter 5.**

Bulma was breathtaking. Her tight, black dress fitted her perfectly and made her downright sexy. At this very moment, she didn't seem to care though. She was nervous, running in circles with her heels echoing on the kitchen's floor. Vegeta couldn't help but watch her every move with a growing apetite.

"Trunks!" she yelled. "We're gonna be late!"

Then she sighed and took another sip from her coffee. She looked up at her husband. "Don't be late at Bulla's school," she advised for the thousandth time since she was up.

"We won't be late, I'll take care of that," Bulla announced sternly.

Bulma blinked and her eyes drifted to her six-year-old daughter sitting next to her father at the breakfast table. "Right," the heiress replied. "I guess you're at least as trustful as your father. You both should make it."

Trunks showed up in the kitchen, still yawning and stretching. He had terrible shadows under the eyes.

"Geez, honey, you look awful! And what the hell are you wearing? Couldn't you wear a suit? It's a burial, not a gothic party," Bulma exclaimed.

"Mum," Trunks groaned in objection.

"Whatever. We don't have time anymore. Pick up something to eat, you'll have your breakfast in the car," his mother answered with a weary sigh.

"Why can't I go?" Bulla asked with a pout.

"Sweetheart, this isn't for little kids like you. You didn't even know that girl," Bulma replied.

"I did know her," Bulla objected.

Bulma froze and rested her cup on the table. She turned her gaze to Trunks and frowned. "Is that true? Has your sister met your girlfriend?" she asked her son in an accusing tone.

Trunks pressed his lips together while grabbing some food. "What's this talk about? I thought we had to hurry," he grumbled. Then he stepped out the kitchen without looking at his mother.

Bulma watched Vegeta with bewilderment. "Are we the only ones that never heard about this mysterious girlfriend?" she wondered with a hint of bitterness.

As a reply, her husband merely shrugged. He couldn't unlock his eyes from her legs as she left the kitchen. He heard the mother and son still arguing about the traffic jam and Trunks's black jeans until the main door eventually closed, allowing a welcome silence.

Vegeta looked down at Bulla. "Are you ready?" he grunted.

"Mum didn't brush my hair. I need you to make me a ponytail," she whined.

He smirked. "I got a better idea. Let's have a special day: you go to school with messed up hair."

The girl narrowed her eyes with a thoughtful expression. "Why not ? The Jabberwocky would like it," she answered.

"Great. Put your shoes on and let's go."

Bulma had nagged at him to be careful about any teacher of the school seeing him fly. Thus, they had to walk a part of the way to school. He wouldn't mind except that Bulla was very slow. He had to hold her hand tight to avoid her wandering off to watch meaningless details on their way. Anything could get her attention. A house, an advertisement plasted on a wall, a seldom car's colour. Absolutely anything. And that made their walk very slow.

He was downright annoyed and he began to think bitterly about his daily training that was delayed by such a chore. "Could you hurry a little bit? " he groaned.

Bulla'd stopped once more to admire a ridiculous dog dressed in an even more ridiculous pink raincoat. He pulled her harshly to keep going on and she huffed with anger. "You're mean," she complained, "Just like Trunks! The Jabberwocky told me that you were even meaner than Trunks indeed."

"Whatever," he sighed.

"I'll tell mummy," she added.

"That way she might at least avoid to ask me to walk you to school in the future." he retorted.

The little girl pursed her lips. "You don't like me," she whined. "Mum told me you love me but I'm sure it's not true."

Vegeta froze for a while and looked down at the kid with bewilderment. "You're talking nonsense, as always," he spat.

She frowned at him defiantly. "You're never nice to me. Never. Like when you broke my TV," she recalled.

"I'm not a nice person, I've never been with anyone," he growled. "Being nice has nothing to do with caring for people. You'll have to learn that. Now just hurry, I don't have all day."

The child still looked angry but she didn't argue further and followed her father's pace without complaining anymore. He was relieved to drop her at the school's main entrance and rushed back home. He really wished his life to go back to normal after Trunks's girlfriend's burial. The Earthlings could be exhausting sometimes.

He appreciated the silence and tranquility of the empty house that morning. Bulma wanted to attend the whole funeral and, unless Trunks would need her further, she would go to her office when it would be over. She won't be back before night. Trunks would certainly not show up before dinner time and, even if he was back earlier, Vegeta knew his son might just lock himself up in his room. Concerning Bulla, the freak had to pick her at school to take her to some dancing lessons or whatever it was. That meant the Saiyan would be left alone for a _whole_ day which hadn't happened in weeks.

So, when the doorbell rang in the early afternoon, he couldn't prevent an annoyed grunt. He was just out of the shower and felt no desire to answer. He took his time to dress up and the doorbell echoed once more. Yet, he didn't care and he didn't hurry to step downstairs either. Then, the doorbell started to ring again and again. The Saiyan frowned with a growing annoyance. Maybe that stupid freak had forgotten her keys. He felt like killing whoever was ringing this goddamn bell.

He opened the door with a nervous sigh and he was stunned to find a strange young girl on his porch. He blinked at her with astonishment. Her waved hair was long and blonde but its points were painted in a crimson red. She was leaning with a hand resting against the doorframe in a very self assured posture.

He raised an eyebrow and she smirked at him. "Vegeta. Always hard to catch your attention," she greeted.

He frowned and crossed his arms. "Do I know you?" he asked with a cold voice.

Her smirk became a defiant smile. "Sure. Don't you remember Marron? Krillin's daughter."

He stiffened for a while and squinted. Krillin's brat was supposed to be a little girl with bunches. Now he had to admit his memories were kind of old and blurry. Yet, he could finally recognize the mix of 18 and Krillin standing in front of him. He gazed at her with some disbelief. The bunches had been replaced by a jumble of two-colored curls hanging on each side of her face. Underneath her dark coat, he couldn't help but notice her strange, torn leggings that looked as if she'd just fought some monsters with terrible claws. "I remember you. What do you want?" he mumbled.

"Need to talk," she answered.

Vegeta sighed. It seemed that kids never uttered complete sentences. She was acting casual but he could see she was somehow nervous. Vegeta wasn't sure he was interested in listening to her, not to mention he hardly knew her. However, something in her evasive gaze caught his curiosity. "Fine, come in," he grunted.

He didn't even check on her following him and headed to the kitchen, which was his initial destination.

She sat at the table without a second thought and took a cigarette out of her pocket. He stared at her sternly.

"You mind?" she said pointing at the cigarette.

He shrugged and leaned his back against the counter.

"Anything to drink?" she asked shamelessly.

"Just spill the beans, brat," he replied with a harsh voice.

She sighed and lit up her cigarette. He noticed that her hand was trembling. « I just got back from Becky's funeral," she explained.

"Becky? You mean the girl in Trunks's school?"

"Yeah, that one. By the way, Trunks's school is also mine, you know."

"Really? Whatever."

Marron gave him a suspicious look and squinted. « I'm not sure you're the right person for this talk. I thought about going to see Bulma in the first place, but I met her at the funeral and I think it would be even worse to talk to her. »

"Talk about what?" the Saiyan asked with some impatience.

"About Trunks," Marron replied.

Vegeta flinched at the answer but he kept an emotionless face. Marron stopped speaking and watched his reaction.

"What's going on with Trunks?" Vegeta insisted after a second thought.

She looked down at her hands and began fidgeting her nails with her cigarette still stuck between two fingers. "You don't know your son very well, do you?" she mumbled.

Deep down inside his mind, Vegeta admitted it was true, but the girl in front of him was getting on his nerves and he didn't feel at all like debating about his parental position with her.

"So, what's the point now, girl?" he asked.

She looked him right in the eyes. "I didn't come here to judge you or anything… It's just… I'm a bit worried about Trunks…"

She'd said 'worried' but he could read 'afraid' in her eyes. For that reason, he repressed his will to throw her out at this very moment. Not that this girl's opinion could have any value to him but somehow, what she was saying was reflecting his own feeling lately.

"I'm not one of his close friends," she resumed. "We don't hang around with the same people but we've known each other for a long time, so I care for him in the distance and I heard things about him."

"You mean rumors from brainless schoolkids?" Vegeta hissed with a smirk.

She frowned. "Call it what you want, I heard freaky things from people who maybe know Trunks better than you do."

She'd been offended by his words, and she had thought she could offend him back by suggesting that many people might know Trunks much better than Vegeta did. Yet, the Saiyan couldn't care less. Nevertheless, he had rather the strange desire to know what she was speaking about. "What kind of freaky things?" he asked.

"Well, Trunks 's weird, he scares people, and now some of them start to say he's the one who had Becky fall from the roof-top. No one even knows why she was up there, in the first place, and he'd always acted like a jerk to her."

She was becoming more and more nervous and hesitant. Vegeta considered she was still shocked about this girl's death, like every schoolkid. Earthling were always frantic about death, especially about violent death striking young people.

"Crap. This girl was Trunks's friend, why would he kill her? Trunks hasn't even killed anyone before, why her? You're talking nonsense," Vegeta objected.

"I never said he killed Becky, I just said people start to believe he did, and they do because Trunks is downright weird and frightening."

This time, Vegeta couldn't help but burst out of laughing. Marron stared at him with bewilderment for a while. Then, she stood up angrily. "Sorry for bothering," she growled while heading to the door.

Then, she froze and glanced at him a last time. "Whatever. Don't tell Trunks I came to see you," she added.

"Why? Scared that he'll come and kill you in your sleep?" Vegeta replied with a chuckle.

The young girl scolded at that joke. She seemed angry and uncomfortable and he understood she was really taking all this very seriously. "Come down, girl. It's only Trunks we're talking about," he sighed with a grin.

She huffed and left the house with a furious step.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	6. Chapter 6

_Hola! Thanks for all the nice feedbacks._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _supported me once again by beta-reading this chapter. For those who didn't pay attention so far, I mention again he's also a (good) writer. See it by yourself._

 _And I wanted to recommand a live db fanfiction I discovered on You Tube. It's called "The fall of men" and was released by "BlackSmokeFilms". I personally found it great. If some of you don't know it and are interested, it's running on You Tube._

 _Meanwhile, let's go._

* * *

 **Chapter 6.**

When Vegeta crossed the garden back from the Gravity Room, all the lights were on in the house and he knew everybody was back. The quietness had come to an end.

Entering through the backdoor, he heard Gloria talking in the kitchen, which was exactly the room he aimed. He also recognized Trunks's and Goten's voices chatting with her.

Vegeta showed up on the treshold to find the three of them standing near the counter, while Bulla was sitting at the table with her dinner in front of her.

Trunks and Goten were still wearing black clothes and Gloria was wriggling in a way that was likely supposed to be a sort of mating dance. She was all the more pathetic if one considered that she was facing two sixteen-year-old kids. It seemed that whoever had balls was somehow able to catch her attention. Besides, her awful minty breath mixed up with some fruitish perfume was overwhelming, and once again the Saiyan wondered why they were keeping that freak inside their home.

The discussion paused when he stepped in.

"Hi, Mr Briefs," the babysitter greeted. "Your wife called me to tell she was gonna come home late and she asked me to cook dinner for Bulla and to have her go to bed. By the way… The teacher insisted that I remind you it would be good if you could attend the meeting about Bulla."

He sighed and turned his eyes to his daughter sitting at the table. Her doll was sitting on the table next to her glass, and the llittle girl offered the toy each spoon of food before thrusting it in her own mouth. She seemed lost in her world again and didn't even care to hear her name in the discussion. _Daydreaming._

"Mum also said it was fine for Goten to spend the night here," Trunks announced.

Vegeta glanced at the teenagers. He hadn't seen Goten for a while. Or maybe he had, he never really paid attention to him. Trunks and him had always been so close that the Saiyan had become used to the boy being around and he hardly noticed when Goku's son was in his house.

Trunks and Goten had gathered food on a tray and, without any doubt, they were on the verge of disappearing in Trunks's room. Vegeta also suspected that they wouldn't sleep during the whole night as always. Goten beamed at him but the Saiyan didn't return the smile.

He shrugged and made his way to the fridge without a word. Since everyone was used to his very basic mode of communication, the talk went on as if he wasn't there.

"This story is creepy, I read it in the morning paper but I didn't know the girl was one of your friends," Gloria mumbled. "Have you seen her? I mean… You know… dead?"

She was speaking with a very low voice in order to avoid Bulla hearing her. Trunks glanced sternly at Goten.

"I have," the older kid replied.

Gloria's eyes widened in horror.

"And so have I," Goten added.

Trunks frowned at his friend's words and Goten looked at him with a challenging expression. The babysitter was staring at them with amazement. She squirmed even more frantically while fighting the urge to ask for more details.

"You're not even sad about her death," Bulla's voice uttered all of a sudden.

The three younglings turned to her with surprise. She'd stopped trying to feed her doll and was gazing at them with anger. "You were so mean, Trunks," the child added.

"Shut up, Bulla," her brother cut off in an angry tone.

Yet, the six-year-old seemed willing to speak further. "How could you let her die that way? She's been so nice to you all the time, she's been always there for you!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Trunks barked.

Vegeta stiffened and glared at his son. He could feel Bulla's ki growing again and he knew she was disturbed. "Trunks, watch your tongue," the Saiyan warned with a threatening voice.

"Yes, calm down, dude," Goten intervened. The Son kid walked up to Bulla and leaned on her. He stroked her head gently.

"You know Trunks has nothing to do with her dying… Even if he hadn't been very nice to her, I mean," Goten explained with a soothing voice. Bulla looked up at him in disbelief. He beamed at her.

She frowned in reply and glared back to her brother. "I hate you!," she hissed in an accusing tone. Then, she stood up in one go and grabbed her doll before dashing out of the kitchen.

Gloria sighed and pouted. "She's been pretty nervous these days, I dunno what's up with her," she stated as an apology. "I have to go and see how she's doing." She followed the girl out the kitchen and upstairs to the nursery.

When she was gone, Vegeta stared at the boys. Bulla's ki was still disturbed but cooling down. "Why do you need to get under her skin all the time? Didn't I tell you to leave her alone?" the Saiyan asked his son.

Trunks's eyes widened in anger. "Excuse me, we still share the same house. Beside, she was the one looking for trouble ; you always prove her right" he objected in an appalled tone.

"Aren't you mature enough to understand she's affected by this girl's death?" Vegeta spat.

"Affected?" Trunks exclaimed. "She didn't even know her, she's never met her. She's just nuts and you know that, and still, you stand by her side."

Vegeta frowned. He could remember Bulla talking about the dead girl being someone nice, and she had even been able to tell Trunks's friend had a nail in her nose, so the brat had met the girl. Maybe Trunks didn't know it.

Trunks could read the disbelief on his father's face. The teenager smirked. "She told you she knew her, didn't she?" he asked.

Vegeta didn't answer but Trunks bursted out of laugher. "Dad… Don't you understand? She told you that just like she told the teacher you were deaf-mute. Just like she tells stories about the Jabberwocky. It's all in her head and she doesn't make a difference between her imaginary world and reality."

Vegeta's look drifted to Goten. He had a weak smile and nodded his head in agreement with Trunks's explanation.

"Don't laugh in my face, that way." Vegeta yelled in return.

Trunks stopped laughing and sighed. He was still smiling though. "Sorry. I think you're just as disconnected as she is sometimes."

"Shut up! Just get the hell out of my kitchen, now," Vegeta groaned in embarrassment.

Both boys obliged in a blink and headed to Trunks's room. After that, the house returned to silence and the Saiyan could eat peacefully. Yet, he couldn't help but to mull over his son's words. Bulla had never met the dead girl. How could she? She was always at school or at home. Trunks's high school was far from her own school and his daughter wouldn't likely be able to find her way to the place.

Or maybe Trunks had secretly taken his friend home. That would be when Bulla had met her and Trunks didn't want his little sister to reveal his secret. However, it was hard to believe that Vegeta wouldn't have perceived a foreign presence in his own house, and why would Trunks have felt a need to hide her anyway?

Or Trunks was right, his sister was making up stories and Vegeta had never realized how crazy it could feel.

All this was way too complicated and not so interesting. He was snatched out of his thoughts by Gloria's minty scent. When he looked up, she was standing on the treshold with her coat on. "I'm ready to go. Bulla's in bed," she announced.

He nodded but she didn't move. She seemed hesitant. "Mr Briefs… Uh… You know, Bulla's still a bit disturbed because of this Becky. I know you're not used to… Well, would you go kiss her goodnight for once? I mean, since Mrs Briefs's not there tonight."

"It's all in her head, she'll get through it" he replied with annoyance.

He could see the young woman biting her lips in the dim light. She wriggled with unease. "Even if it's only her imagination, I insist she's not fine. She needs some comfort. A dad's comfort would be great," she resumed.

"I don't need any advice from you. If you're done with your job, just leave," Vegeta retorted. He felt a creeping irritation in his mind. He had too many weak people trying to explain to him how to think and how to act today. Gloria was the icing on the cake.

The young woman's silhouette froze at his cold voice. "Well, then. See you tomorrow, I have to go anyway."

When he was alone again, he listened to the silence for a while and sighed. He'd finished his dinner and felt full. After a second thought, he stood up and headed to the nursery.

Bulla was laying in her bed with her pink night light on. He hesitated to walk over the room to her bed. Maybe she was asleep already. Maybe, the freak was wrong and her daughter was snoozing peacefully like any other child her age. Yet, her ki was still vivid. He came closer to the little form and she turned her head in his direction. She blinked and gave him a shy smile. "What's up, Dad? Is Mummy back?" she whispered.

"I wanted to check if you were all right," he said. He had tried to make his voice as soothing as possible, but the result wasn't up to his effort and his tone sounded a bit accusing. He sat down on the bed among her countless soft toys and dolls.

"I want Mummy," the little girl whined.

"She'll come later. Just sleep and don't think about that girl anymore. It's useless," the Saiyan said.

The child's eyes were troubled by sadness all of a sudden. "I know. The Jabberwocky was mad at me because of what I said in the kitchen. He doesn't want me to talk or think about Becky anymore," she whispered.

« Your Jabby-thing is right. Just forget her, sleep and be nice."

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I will," she replied.

Then she sank in the comforter. He could only still see part of her blue hair. Her ki was quieter again. He couldn't help but to wonder if the brat was really imagining her encounter with the dead girl. If it was the case, it was downright weird to hear her grieving with such sincerity for someone she'd never known. She must be a bit too emotional, just like her mother.

He took a shower and went back downstairs. Bulma was back home. She was sitting on a stool at the kitchen's counter and reading a paper while eating a sandwich. She still had her black dress on, and it straight up made him forget everything about his unpleasant evening.

"Are the kids all right?" she asked without looking up at him.

"I guess."

She kept focusing on the newspaper. He stood behind her and ran a finger along her tigh. She stopped reading and watched him with a puzzled look. He was smirking. "What do you have on?" he whispered.

"Hm. Clothes?" she chuckled with a mischievous smile.

"You know what I mean, don't play that game, I had a hard day," he growled while nestling his nose in her hair.

"A hard day?" she wondered, "You mean 'a hard day' trying to imagine what I was wearing under my dress or 'a hard day' having to deal with normal people?" she joked.

He huffed but didn't stop his attempt to roll up his wife's dress. Bulma didn't move the least to help him, still sitting on her stool.

"Well, my hard day was playing perfect mother at a depressing teenager's funeral and then playing perfect business woman with complete jerks," she resumed.

He wasn't listening anymore and she understood it, considering the forceful way he was now pulling on the innocent hem of her dress. She grabbed his hand to make him stop. She turned to him and kissed him, though. "Give me a break," she sighed, "Trunks's school called me this afternoon."

"Trunks again," he scolded.

She gave him a weak smile. Sometimes, being Vegeta's wife was like having one more kid. It was hard for him to accept that she could focus very long on someone else than him. Coming in a second place in her priorities wasn't an option for the Saiyan. Yet, Bulma insisted.

"They said the investigation about Becky's death were on and, so far, her death was very likely a suicide. They still want to question her friends and Trunks is part of them."

"A suicide?"

"Yes. I hate to hear that but they said the roof's door was locked from outside," Bulma explained.

"Great," Vegeta said while slipping his hand back under the dress's fabric.

"Vegeta, I'm aware you don't give a damn but do you only know your son saw her dead body?" She fell just in front of his classroom's window," Bulma exclaimed as she interrupted his gesture once again.

He sighed with annoyance and withdraw his hand. "So ? What should we do ? Stop sex as a way to wear mourning?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about us, I'm talking about our son. I fear…"

"Damnit, you always fear something about him. He's fine. Fine, you hear me? I had a little talk with him."

"You had a what? A _talk_?" she asked in disbelief. "You mean, you've gone through the incredible effort to listen to the sounds coming out from your son's mouth, and you even tried to understand them? Geez, that's something."

He glared at her with gritted teeth, but after a while, she couldn't prevent a grin and pulled him closer from her.

"All right, then. I trust you, we'll just have to be careful with him, and since your day was _that_ hard, I wonder if I could try to be a perfect wife, since I could play perfect mother and perfect business woman so far. Do you think I can do it?" she whispered.

He rolled up the dress in a slow move to find out she was wearing stockings. He smirked. "I know you can."

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	7. Chapter 7

_Salam. Thanks again for all your support._

 _It seems I was the only one that never heard of the Fall of Men and also the only one to like it, so forget it. Anyway, that's not the point here._

 _Also, in reply to some feedbacks, don't expect Vegeta to act or to think like any normal person. No one will be surprised to find out he's not very gifted in connecting with people._

 _Great thanks to **Kalebxdd** who beta-read this chapter again. Nothing possible without him, go and see his story, they're sooo good._

* * *

 **Chapter 7.**

Vegeta was bored. They'd been sitting in the waiting room for about ten minutes and he was already bored to death.

Behind the reception desk a fat secretary had been watching him with puzzled eyes the whole time. He'd ignored her so far but her behaviour was starting to get on his nerves, and he glared back at her all of a sudden. She jumped and bowed her head back to her paperwork with some panic.

He had no desire to be here, but Bulma had nagged at him so much that he'd yielded to her will. For sure, she knew how to be persuasive. Since she'd learned about the suicide of Trunks's friend, she'd decided that Vegeta had to be more 'involved' in the children's life. 'Involved'. Bullshit. However, he was well aware that there was not much he could do to divert her from that idea, he just had to wait for her to cool down.

Meanwhile, here he was, sitting in that goddam waiting room with this fat woman peeking at him in bewilderment, while he just craved to stand up and leave this place. Not to mention he would miss half a day of training. It was driving him crazy.

Bulma seemed to read his mind. She rested a firm hand on his thigh and mumbled. "Don't even think about it. Just sit and pretend to be as well mannered as possible."

He had no time to protest, a woman with grey hair knotted in a bund showed up and stretched out a hand in their direction. "Mrs and Mr Briefs, what a pleasure. I'm Keira Morales, the school's headmaster. Sorry for the wait, would you follow me?"

She had a clear, bossy voice. Bulma shook her hand but Vegeta ignored it and crossed his arms. Mrs Morales didn't flinch at his behavior and just glanced at him with a very self-assured look. "We're very honored to meet you, Mr Briefs. We all know you're not very available," she added.

She didn't wait for his reply and guided them up to an office where a younger woman was already sitting. Vegeta needed some time to recognize Bulla's teacher.

He thought again about exiting the room and flying back home, but he obliged when the headmaster invited them to sit down.

When she began to speak, Vegeta's mind went blank. His eye had been caught by a weird picture hanging on the wall. It was as if someone had just spilled all possible colors of paint on a white sheet. It was rather ugly, but he felt mesmerized and straight up his attention was diverted from the women's talk.

At some point, Bulma kicked him under the table and he had little choice but to focus back on the woman with gray hair.

"Bulla's a nice kid. She's polite and willing to work. However, sometimes… Well, her way to act is rather disturbing, and we thought that perhaps it would be a good thing to have our psychologist work with her," she stated.

"Psychologist?!" Bulma exclaimed in an indignant tone. "We're talking about a six-year-old girl. I know she can be absentminded sometimes, but it's nothing more than daydreaming. She's a child."

Bulma's voice was tainted with a creeping anger. Both teachers glanced at each other and the younger one cleared her throat with unease. "What disturbs us about Bulla isn't exactly her trouble to focus on work. She... sometimes has, let's say, 'inappropriate fits of temper'. Have you ever noticed such thing at home?"

Vegeta couldn't help to remember Bulla's anger as he broke her TV. It had been unexpected and awkward and she hadn't hesitated to defy his authority. The little girl was always pretty easy and it wasn't hard to have her bow to the grown-up's will but, back then, when Vegeta turned off her movie, she'd somehow stood up against his decision. He also remembered the way her ki had flared up. It had been downright unexplainable in his mind.

"No, God, no!" Bulma replied, "Bulla is always cheerful and she doesn't get angry very often. She's a smiling, gentle girl, much more obedient than her older brother was at her age. How can you…"

"Mrs Briefs," the teacher interrupted "Let's speak frankly. She called me an 'old bitch'. Is this something familiar to you?"

Bulma's mouth opened in shock. She needed an instant to answer. "I beg your pardon? This isn't Bulla. Are you sure she was the one to say those words?" she stammered.

"She was right in front of me and looking me in the eyes, so yes, I'm sure. She also threatened a classmate with the utmost seriousness to… How did she say it?... 'drown him in his own blood'. This sounded rather violent to me, especially coming from such a quiet, cute child like Bulla. See, most of the time, she's rather innocent in comparison with other kids."

Bulma was taken aback. She gave a nervous peek at Vegeta and he shrugged to let her know he had no idea where such behaviour could come from. Bulma coughed and regained her composure. She tried to ignore the stern looks of both women sitting opposite from her. "TV, maybe? I will pay better attention to the programs she watches, I promise." she offered with an awkward smile.

"Mrs Briefs, I'm sorry to insist but you have to understand. What bothers us isn't only what she says but also how she behaves. She can get infuriated sometimes and it's almost like she's someone else. We think that she might have a problem,' the headmaster sighed.

"Are you hinting our daughter is insane?" Bulma hissed in disbelief.

"Of course not, it has nothing to do with sanity. We think something's wrong with Bulla and since you say everything's fine at home, it's possible that she tries to hide it from you in order to protect you somehow. Yet, things come out here, at school, because it's too hard for her to repress her unwellness or maybe even as a call for help. It's a rather common reaction, even for a six-year-old. We think your daughter needs to express something, but she doesn't know how to deal with it, and our psychologist could help her. Maybe, it's nothing serious, you know," the headmaster explained with a soothing voice.

The old woman turned to Vegeta with hope in the eyes. "Mr Briefs, what do you think?"

He flinched and blinked. "I'm bored," he replied.

Then, he just stood up and exited the room without a single look at the stunned women. He stepped out the building, ignoring Bulma's frantic calls in his back. She eventually joined him at the school's main entrance. "You, freaky, antisocial alien," she groaned with anger.

"Be honest, you weren't interested by their talk either," he retorted.

"I didn't agree with them, but that doesn't mean you had to be rude. You're such a jerk sometimes."

She took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it up as they reached the street. "By the way," she added, "I wonder where Bulla picked up the idea of 'drowning someone in his own blood'," she said while eying her husband with suspicion.

"Why are you looking at me? Do you really think I would speak to her of such things? Ask Trunks first," he grunted.

"And what about those… How did they call it?... 'Fits of temper'? Strange how it reminds me of someone," Bulma resumed.

"Are you trying to blame _me_ for being her father?"

"Yeah… You always have a convenient answer for everything. You never care about how you speak or how you act when she's around and see the result? Make an effort and I'll talk to her. I don't want a psychologist to lock her up in an asylum after she told him her father is an alien Prince of a dead race. You're all going to drive me crazy, I'm lucky if I'm the one to end up locked in an asylum," Bulma spat.

She left him behind on the sidewalk and headed to her car with a steady step. He could feel her anger. However, he had been sincere when he'd said he'd never mentioned anything related to violence near his daughter.

For sure, his concern about his children was far from a human father's. There were no such thing like kisses, hugs, story telling or time shared together at the park or anything like that. Yet, he'd never claimed to be a comforting, affectionate family man. He was unable to behave that way because he was no Earthling and Saiyans weren't built that way.

Bulma had always respected this part of him. She'd taught him a lot but she'd never demanded from him to change what he was. As for the children, they both accepted his lonely, raw nature, even if Bulla sometimes complained that he wasn't as nice as a dad should be. Trunks and his sister were used to his personality.

Being quite distant and cold in the Earthling's standard didn't prevent him from caring for his children, though. Bulma could say he didn't care, it wasn't true. And, what he cared the most with his daughter was her childish innocence. Although he'd rather die than to admit it, it has always been something amazing and precious in his eyes.

She was six years old and she had never heard about war, death or violence. She never suffered either and she still felt like an angel floating in a beautiful world. She could still dream about stupid butterflies and moronic fairies, she still believed that nothing wrong would ever happen to her and she faced the world with a total confidence. Vegeta hadn't even felt the need to train her since she was born.

This was a luxury that even Vegeta's own father hadn't been able to offer to his children. Even Trunks hadn't been spared from pain and fear as a kid.

For that reason, Bulla's carelessness was a point from the utmost importance to the Saiyan. It was the sign that he had been strong enough to keep her safe from harm and this was an invaluable pride in his life.

Truth to be told, he'd never been so protective with Trunks and he couldn't explain why things were so different with Bulla. Was it because she was a girl? Was it because he was getting older and maybe wiser? He had no clue, and it wasn't very important.

Yet, what the teachers had told about her behaviour bothered him. Not that he regarded those women's opinions as worthy, but what they said had reminded him of some recent events, like the way Bulla had confessed she liked violent movies or the way she could turn angry at her brother or even at him. He hadn't forgotten those unusual reactions from his daughter, even if Bulma never knew about them. Someone or something in Bulla's world was perverting her gentle, innocent nature and he needed to figure out what it was.

When he pondered about the possible answer to his questioning, the first one to cross his mind was Trunks.

The stupid boy had considered it smart to tell his sister that her dad had killed people as a kid. Maybe he also influenced her to call people 'old bitch', or to threaten other kids to 'drown them in their own blood'? However, this sounded unlikely because the siblings didn't spend much time together and they were living in downright different worlds. When Trunks was younger, Bulla and him were much closer, but now the sixteen-year-old was much more distant from his little sister. He had even been able to leave her alone at home the night he ran away. Bulla herself didn't pay much attention to him, just like she didn't pay much attention to her father. Her indifference was like a reply to their coldness, her mother remained her world's center.

Well, Gloria was also someone to consider. She spent a lot of time with the kid and Bulla seemed deeply attached to her. Which leaded the Saiyan to think about that freaky babysitter. Could she be the one to influence his daughter's behaviour? She wasn't a violent person. Neither was she rude and she was always rather respectful as far as he knew. Yet, the Saiyan never liked her and he still remembered the night when he'd caught the little girl watching the scary movie while freaky Gloria was supposed to take care of her. The babysitter wasn't violent nor coarse when Vegeta was there, but he held her for someone very vulgar and who knew what was going on when she was alone with Bulla?

Vegeta had to stop his mind from trying to imagine terrible answers to this question. All of a sudden, he remembered that, just at this very moment, Gloria was watching Bulla, the girls both alone in his house. He took off in a blink and rushed back home.

When he entered the house, everything was quiet. He dashed upstairs and into the nursery. Bulla was sitting on her tiny pink chair and was painting. She didn't lift her head to watch him and remained focused on her work, as always. Vegeta searched for the freak but she was nowhere to be seen. Bulla's books were carefully stacked on her desk. A sound in his back drew his attention.

Gloria was standing on the doorstep with crossed arms and giving him a questioning look. "Is something wrong, Mr Briefs?" she asked with concern.

She was wearing one of her usual dresses that looked more like a bag if you asked the Saiyan. Too many necklaces and bracelets were hanging at her neck and wrists.

"What were you doing?" he asked with a cold voice.

She raised an eyebrow and chewed her gum for an instant. "What were we doing?" she repeated in disbelief. "Well, homework is done, so Bulla wanted to paint for a while before having her dinner, and I was preparing said dinner which consists of mashed potatoes and fish. Anything else you want to know?"

Vegeta frowned as he could feel a hint of mockery in the babysitter's answer. Besides, he felt like a fool all of a sudden.

"Hey, Dad! Look! I painted the Jabberwocky, you like it?" Bulla asked.

He glanced at the paper she was waving. She'd mixed all colors again and the painting was no more than a brown dripping mess. Vegeta remained numb at the sight. He was very tempted to say it was dreadful but he had a second thought.

"It's marvellous as always, Bulla. I'd say dark but amazing anyway. Now go and wash your hand before dinner," Gloria answered instead of the Saiyan.

Bulla rested the paper with a proud beam. While she stood up to leave the nursery, Gloria gave a defiant gaze. When Bulla was out, the babysitter resumed. "What's up, Mr Briefs? We're not used to have you around caring about us."

He glared at her. He hated her tone and her mischievous expression. "Things can change. I'll keep an eye on you," he growled.

The young woman cringed with surprise, but didn't reply.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	8. Chapter 8

_Hoy. Thank you all for still being there._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _beta read again this one. Patience and grammar will save us all, go and see his amazing stories._

* * *

 **Chapter 8.**

Bulma was screaming. She was calling his name. He opened his eyes and jumped out of the empty bed. The room was dark and his hazy mind needed a moment to understand the situation. Yet, Bulma's voice echoed once more and helped his brain to connect back to reality.

He dashed out the room and focused the best he could to locate his wife.

She called him again. She sounded scared, so scared he couldn't remember ever seeing her like that. He literally flew downstairs and rushed to the kitchen where he'd spotted her ki.

Yet, on the doorstep, he remained numb at the sight of his wife kneeling near their daughter. Two things caught his eyes straight away and froze him: the crimson blood dripping on the immaculate floor and the shimmering knife in Bulla's hand.

He couldn't see their faces but they seemed to be struggling. Bulma had grasped Bulla's little wrist in an attempt to prevent her to use the knife, while her free arm was whirled around the child's waist. "Bulla, honey, stop it! Let go of it! Bulla, listen to me!" Bulma was shouting. She had a hard time to controlling her daughter's strength as Bulla was trying to release her wrist from her mother's grip.

When Bulma turned her head to her husband, Vegeta could read her call for help in her eyes before she could say anything. He reacted so quickly that Bulma hardly perceived his move. In a blink, the knife was in his hand.

Bulla jumped in bewilderment and looked up at him. She blinked. Straight up, her face turned confused and afraid. She stared at her mother, then at the blood on the floor. "Mummy!" she screamed. "Mummy! I'm bleeding!"

Vegeta gritted his teeth at the piercing sound of her hysterical yelling. Bulla clutched her arms around her mother's neck with a cry of panic. Bulma hugged her with strength regardless of the blood soaking her clothes. "Don't worry, everything's gonna be all right, now," Bulma answered with a soothing voice.

"Why are we in the kitchen? What happened?" the girl sobbed.

" It was just a nightmare, honey, let me see your arm."

Vegeta was taken aback by the blood. He had the feeling that there was blood everywhere, even if there wasn't so much of it. There were stains on Bulma's white nightgown, on her skin, on Bulla's pink pyjamas, on the kitchen's floor, they seemed to be everywhere. He wasn't even sure who was wounded in the end. He'd seen a lot of blood in his life and it was nothing shocking to him, but he'd never seen his wife or daughter's blood. It made him break out in a cold sweat.

Bulma had wrapped Bulla's arm in a towel. "Vegeta, could you get a first-aid kit, please?" she said with an amazing tranquillity. Yet, when he met her eyes, he understood that she was as worried as him, but she was trying to look reassured for Bulla's sake.

He obliged with the knife still in his hand. When he came back to the kitchen, Bulma had turned the tap on and was washing Bulla's arm in the sink. Two cuts in her skin were releasing a deep red blood. Bulla was whimpering and hopping at the sight of the red liquid dripping in the sink.

"It's not so bad," Bulma announced to her husband while grasping the first-aid kit.

He could only nod, mesmerized by the crimson whirlpool in the sink. Bulla calmed down little a little and allowed her mother to bandage her arm. The child had her eyes locked to her wound and it was obvious that she was in shock.

Vegeta looked down at the knife he still had in his tight fist. It wasn't very big but it was very sharp and still tainted with red streaks. He didn't dare to ask Bulma any question, but he flinched at the mental picture of the blade sinking deeply into his daughter or wife's skin.

The whole time, Bulma had been talking softly to her daughter. When her mother was done, Bulla demanded a pink adhesive strip to hold the bandage and Bulma agreed with a smile, for she knew it to be a sign that her daughter's mind was going back to more normal thoughts.

Then, Bulma lifted her daughter and turned to Vegeta. He was still standing motionless by her side. "Now, take her upstairs and get her new pyjamas, I need to change myself."

He had no time to protest, Bulma handed the child to him like a package. "Are you wounded too?" he asked his wife.

"Hardly. A scratch. Be nice to her."

When she walked out the room, both daughter and father watched her with unease. Vegeta sighed and left the knife on the counter after a second thought. He couldn't unlock his eyes from the blade for a while. He was still stunned and pressing his daughter's warm body against him in an unconscious gesture.

Bulla rested her head on his shoulder and yawned. "Dad, I'm tired," she whispered as a hint that she wanted him to hurry.

He was snatched out his thoughts and did what Bulma asked him. He helped the little girl slip her new pyjamas on. He didn't even get impatient when his daughter changed her mind about the nightgown she wanted to wear. The kid was getting more and more talkative, giving him very serious explanations about each unicorn printed on her garment's fabric. He wasn't listening, but he was rather bewildered to see her behaving as if nothing had happened.

He was meekly sitting on the desk's chair and watched her with astonishment. She was alive but as things were half an hour earlier, she could be dead. He felt blank.

"Are you done in here?" Bulma asked while entering the nursery.

"Look! I decided to sleep with the unicorns tonight," Bulla announced cheerfully.

Bulma smiled. "Is you arm still hurting?"

"Awfully," the girl answered with a tone that belied her answer.

Bulma's nodded with seriousness. "Okay, Princess. You sleep with me tonight." She glanced at Vegeta. "The nursery will be very welcoming for your Dad and he will even have a pink night light," she added mischievously.

Vegeta sighed but didn't protest. Bulma left the room with the kid in her arms. Bulla was still babbling about her unicorns and he heard her little voice fading away when Bulma closed the room's door.

The Saiyan was too nervous to go back to sleep at that very moment. He needed something to drink. He went back to the kitchen and poured himself a huge glass of water. He noticed that his hand was still slightly trembling. He had to calm down.

As his fear was cooling down, his train of thought restarted little by little. He wasn't even sure himself what had just happened, but he'd been scared like he hadn't been for years. He couldn't understand why he hadn't woken up, why he hadn't heard his daughter stepping downstairs into the kitchen. She might have been sleepwalking or something like that, but whatever, he was the one to watch the house. Nothing could ever happen here without him knowing it. Above all, nothing threatening. What the hell was going on?

His gaze fell on the blood stains on the floor. They'd turned darker now. They looked horrible and he craved for them to disappear, but he was unable to go closer to them, yet couldn't unlock his eyes from them either. He felt mesmerized. Those stains were an insult to him. He was mighty, he was one of the mightiest beings on this planet, his strength was almost unrivalled and yet, his daughter's blood had been poured right here, in his own house and he hadn't been able to prevent it. It was tearing his guts.

All of a sudden, the dark spots on the floor were covered by a mop. He started and looked up. Bulma was standing in front of him. He hadn't heard her come in. "She's asleep for now," she said with a low voice.

"What the hell just happened, Bulma?"

" I don't know. I heard some noise on the stairs and it woke me up. I got up and came to see what was going on. Bulla was here with the knife and trying to cut her arm with it," she explained.

Bulma sighed and took a cigarette from a drawer. Her hand was shaking when she lit it and he noticed she had a bandage around her hand. "You're injured," he stated.

"Nothing serious," she answered, "I'm mostly scared."

"I should have woken up, I don't know why I didn't," he mumbled.

She stroked his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Do you think she was sleepwalking?" he resumed.

" I have no fucking idea but I don't think sleepwalkers do this kind of thing. I mean, they can fall in stairwells or hurt themselves against walls, but they won't do such a precise gesture like taking a knife and using it properly. This knife was in a drawer and she needed a stool to reach it. That's too much for a sleepy brain, don't you think?"

Vegeta shrugged. He knew nothing about such disturbing behaviour.

"What if it happens again?" she added with a barely audible voice.

He cringed. It was the exact question his mind was avoiding to ask. He met his wife's eyes. He felt so helpless all of a sudden and he was unable to deal with that. He'd always thought he could protect his family from anything but how could he face a threat coming from the inside?

"I'll sleep with her until we find a solution," Bulma announced while stubbing out her cigarette. "Meanwhile, believe me, I'm going to find the most expensive and most brilliant shrink in town to tell us what it's all about."

Vegeta flinched at the prospect of handing over his daughter to a stupid psychologist. In his mind such people were close to crooks. They were just selling comfort to weak people by having them think they would feel better with someone listening to their pathetic issues. They were unable to solve anything.

Bulma seemed to read his mind and kissed his lips. "Whenever your Highness has a better idea, I'll take it." she concluded. She stroked his shoulder once again and left the kitchen.

He stayed still and motionless, alone in the silent room for a while. Damn, he had no better idea. He could fight terrible monsters, he could fight evil wizards and bloody aliens but he had no power to fight the mind's slip-up. Was his daughter insane? Was she ill? All this stuff was so weird and so disturbing. She was his child so he had no doubt she had to be mentally and physically close to perfection. Maybe it wasn't so simple. Trunks himself was… Where was Trunks indeed?

The Saiyan blinked as he realized that his son hadn't showed up yet. Trunks hardly ever slept and most of the time he was up all night. It sounded impossible that he hadn't heard anything. His mother and sister had screamed in fear and the boy could not just keep on sleeping peacefully.

Vegeta dashed upstairs to his son's room. He opened the door in one go and squinted in search of the teenager. The room was too dark so he had to step in to realize that the bed was indeed empty. Trunks wasn't here.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey. There again. I liked all of your reviews and you have to know your questionings are precious to me, they help me a lot to get along with my plot as I have a better view on the reader's feeling. Thanks a lot._

 _I have to reply to Nancy 103 about that "comfort" thing. Let's be honest I picked up that category randomly and I never really paid attention to that "comfort" part. So, I'm not really sure there will be such thing._

 _Now, be grateful to_ **Kalebxdd** for he beta read this one quickly. That's why I can have a fast update. (Go and see his work. Do I have to say that again?)

* * *

 **Chapitre 9.**

"Jeez, you're freaky."

"Not true, I'm not."

Vegeta froze at the sound of his children's voices coming from his room. He was standing in the corridor on his way to Bulla, who wasn't up yet.

"Sure, you are. You talk crazy and you act crazy. You scared mum like hell last night."

"It wasn't my fault! Mum told me I was just sleepwalking, she told me I did nothing wrong!"

"Huh. And what about the Jabberwocky? My, that's something freaky you're talking about all the time."

"The Jabberwocky exists."

"Really? So, where is he? Strange I never met him, although he seems to be there most of the time."

"Just… You can't see him but that doesn't mean he doesn't exist. Fairies exist but people can't see them."

"Bulla, stop that. You're six now. You're in the first grade, you know it's all in your head."

"Whatever. Will you really take me to see that movie?"

"Sure. I promised I would."

Vegeta entered the room and the children stopped talking to stare at him. They were both sitting on their parent's bed, side by side. Bulla had still her nightgown on but Trunks had dressed up already. Vegeta watched them with a slight suspicion.

"Are you going to take your sister to watch a movie?" he asked his son.

"Yeah. It will get her mind of it," Trunks answered with a smile.

"What movie?" the saiyan insisted.

"'The Fairy Queen and the Dragonfly,' you wanna take my place?" Trunks said with a mischievous smirk.

Bulla had a childish laugh. Vegeta looked at her and noticed that her arm didn't seem to be aching anymore. She was even in a joyful mood again at the prospect of going out to see this movie with Trunks. He felt relieved to see her back to her usual carelessness. She had already forgotten all the fear and the panic from the night before. His own mind was far from it.

"Your breakfast's ready, girl. Mum's waiting for you," he announced.

"Take it easy, Bulla, Mum cooked it herself," Trunks warned.

Bulla chuckled again at his joke and jumped out of the bed to run downstairs, all the while yelling she was hungry.

Trunks stood up from the bed in order to follow her but Vegeta was still standing on his son's way out of the room. The Saiyan crossed his arms and his eyes turned hard as they met Trunks's.

"Where the hell were you all the night?" Vegeta grumbled.

Trunks was caught off guard by his harsh tone and raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Huh. I was out. I mean, as usual, what's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Vegeta repeated with anger. "What's the fucking matter? Your sister tried to mutilate herself and wounded her mother while sleepwalking, and you still need to know what's the matter?"

"Hey, I'm not guilty for that," Trunks scolded, "Besides, are you not the one supposed to protect her no matter what happens? I went out like I always do, it never bothered you before."

"What bothers me is to believe you're home when you're not, or should I say to believe that I can rely on you when I can't. Most of all, what would really piss me off would be your mother finding out that you disappeared again without telling her." Vegeta spat.

Trunks frowned and gave his father a challenging gaze. "You know what really pisses you off, indeed? Sleeping when you should wake up. How comes you didn't hear her? How comes Mum was the one that did?" he grunted, "Don't blame me for your own mistake."

Trunks hardly had time to finish his sentence; Vegeta grabbed his collar and slammed his back against the wall. "I don't know what you're up to staying out the whole night, but remember I could stop your business anytime. You really want me to stand by your mother's side and treat you like a little fragile kid? I don't think so. Now if you don't want to have me nosing around in your little life, you're gonna stop acting selfish and irresponsible for a while. As long as this 'sleepwalking' issue isn't solved, you will tell me when you're out and when you're home. Got it?"

Trunks had gritted teeth and anger was shining in his eyes, but he didn't answer. Instead he tried to have his father let go of him. Yet, Vegeta didn't weaken his grip. On the contrary, he strengthened the pressure on Trunks's collar.

"One more thing," the Saiyan resumed, "Don't you ever dare talk to me, neither question my authority the way you just did. I am still your father, don't you forget it."

His voice wasn't loud but his tone was clearly threatening. Trunks had bated breath and despite his anger, he couldn't stand up to his father's hard glare. The boy lowered his eyes and nodded with reluctance to let him know he had gotten the message.

Vegeta let go of him and the teenager rushed out the room without a word. His fury was obvious. His father had hardly lectured him for anything in his whole life. Indeed, as long as Trunks's behaviour hadn't interfered with his personal comfort, Vegeta had never tried to mix up with the boy's education. Now, all of a sudden, the Saiyan was claiming a right to know his every move and it was something hard to accept for the boy, even if he hadn't dared to protest.

Vegeta didn't give a damn about Trunks's feelings, though. He only expected the teenager to obey and stop his continuous sarcastic sneering. The Saiyan had never imagined to find himself in such a situation where he would need his son to give a hand to watch the family, but there he was, and it made him downright frustrated.

"Vegeta?"

He turned his head toward the door. Bulma was standing on the threshold and watched him with a slight concern. "Are you alright?" she asked with a shy voice.

He nodded and gave her a questioning look. She entered the room and closed the door behind her with caution. "The kids are having their breakfast downstairs," she whispered.

She walked across the room and sat down on the bed with a weary sigh. "I called a shrink this morning," she announced, "He's supposed to be the best with kids in the whole town. He'll see Bulla on Monday."

Vegeta sat next to her with the very same sigh. "Do you really think it will solve anything? Do you really think it can prevent such 'sleepwalking crisis' from happening again?" he mumbled.

She clasped her hands and rested them on her knees in an attempt to contain her nervousness. "I don't know. I hope so. What else can we do? She's so cheerful today, as if she remembers nothing. Just excited to go see that movie with Trunks. It sounds so weird."

He looked down at her bandaged wrist. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

Bulma shrugged. "A bit but nothing compared to the sight of my six year old daughter trying to carve into her arm with a knife," she said in a low voice.

She sniffed and he realized that she was crying. She rubbed her nose in a swift move. "Yet, Trunks's nice to her. His idea to take her to see a movie was cute. I hope he doesn't feel bad because he didn't wake up last night."

Vegeta pinched his lips. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's very fine with that."

"After his girlfriend's suicide, he doesn't need us to get stressful about his sister. I offered him to have a party for his birthday next month, he was pretty happy. And since you pointed out that I had to let go of him, he will have carte blanche to organize everything on his own."

"Great, we'll have excited, moronic kids everywhere in the house," Vegeta grunted.

"Don't worry, he decided to do that elsewhere downtown."

Trunks's voice echoed from downstairs to announce that Bulla and him were leaving. Then the main door slammed shut and the house was silent.

Bulma sighed again. "I need a hot bath," she stated while standing up.

She disappeared in the bathroom and Vegeta pondered about that 'shrink' solution again. Earthlings talking solution again. He didn't believe in the least it would help. Yet, Bulma was right, he had no better offer.

They had agreed that Bulla would sleep with Bulma until it was safe enough to have her sleep alone in her room. Bulma had decided she would lock the room's door. It would certainly not prevent the kid from going out if she was determined to, but then again it would be noisy and her parents would have better chance of waking up.

Vegeta was still stunned that he hadn't woken up the night before, this thought was looping in his mind and gnawing at his confidence. Maybe he had taken certain things for granted. It was painful to admit it, though. Trunks and his cocky behaviour weren't helping either.

The boy seemed so unconcerned by his sister's mishap. Vegeta wondered when his son had become so detached from his family's well-being. All of a sudden, a strange idea crossed the Saiyan's mind.

He left the room, walked with a slow step along the corridor and paused in front of the grinning skull. He watched the poster with a second thought. The house was silent except for the muffled sound of the water running in Bulma's bathroom.

He rested his hand and the doorknob and handled it only to find out the door was locked. He sighed in irritation. Why the hell would his moronic son lock his room's door? Vegeta could force it without any effort. However, Trunks would know he came in. Did Vegeta care? Like shit. Yet, what did he expect to find in the room? He had no clue. Porn under the bed? Cigarettes or alcohol under the stacks of clothes in the wardrobe? Amazing and surprising discoveries to say the least. Was it worth the big headache Bulma would give to him for having infringed on their son's privacy? Maybe not.

He was still standing in front of the door, weighing the pros and cons when Bulma's voice called him from the other side of the corridor. "Hey, warrior! I was thinking about something," she said.

He turned to her. She was wearing a very short bathrobe. "Since Bulla's gonna sleep with me for a while, it means we won't have much time on our own in the coming days, so we should maybe enjoy the two coming hours to relax a little for now," she resumed. She was smirking in the distance.

"Just a suggestion," she added with a mischievous expression while rocking her hips. She didn't wait for his answer and left the corridor to go back to their room.

He stared back at the grinning skull. His idea to enter Trunks's room seemed foolish at this very moment and the prospect of following Bulma, no matter what her exact intentions were, sounded much more exciting. He didn't take long to decide to leave the grinning skull alone for now.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi, there. Thanks for all the reviews and support._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _was_ _still by my side to beta read this chapter. Still fighting with my mess, so he deserves you to go and take a glance at his work (Yes, I'll say that at each chapter, in case some of you didn't get the message. Who knows)_

* * *

 **Chapter 10.**

"You're exhausting, Bulma. Just go and see how they're doing once and for all," Vegeta grumbled.

His wife looked up at him and took a drag from her third cigarette. "No. I said I wouldn't show up unless they call me, I won't go there."

Vegeta sighed and resumed his meal. She came closer and sat on the stool next to him. "Don't smoke in my nose while I'm eating," he scolded.

"Do you think they would drink alcohol? I was firm with Trunks about that but, I'm not sure if I can rely on him. These kids are only seventeen after all," she said while ignoring his remark.

"Fuck, Bulma, don't piss me off. You were the one to decide the boy would have his party on his own."

"I know, but I'm still wondering whether it was a good idea. On the other hand, Trunks needs to feel that I trust him. The shrinks say teenagers need to be reassured on that," she resumed, "I don't know anymore. Maybe he's still too young. And what about his friends? Are they trustworthy in the end?"

"I have no fucking idea, just get out of my hair."

Bulma pouted at his grumpy reply. "As always, I'm the only one to feel concerned. Whatever. I'm going upstairs to check on Bulla."

She stubbed out her cigarette and left the kitchen. He glared at her and refrained from mentioning that it was the fourth time in an hour that his wife would go and check the sleeping kid.

It had been more than three weeks since Bulla's sleepwalking crisis and she never did it again so far. As time was going by, both parents felt more relax about the incident. They had sent their daughter back to her room where she slept alone, and Bulma had settled an alarm in the nursery in case the girl would get up in the night. That way, they were sure that they would wake up no matter what would happen.

What bothered Bulma the most tonight, was Trunks's birthday party. The boy had decided to celebrate in a club downtown. Vegeta had found the idea insane but hadn't felt interested enough to protest. Trunks had always been a rotten child and his father was aware that it was now much too late to stand up against that. The club's boss was supposed to watch the kids and call Bulma whenever something went wrong. Yet she didn't seem to place an absolute trust in the guy, and she had been running in circles since the beginning of the night.

Although the Saiyan would never tell her, maybe she was right to worry. In the last three weeks, Vegeta had gotten the opportunity to realize how different Trunks was from the boy his mother had in mind.

The teenager had been true to his word and he had warned his father every time he went out at night. At the beginning, Trunks had been very reluctant to respect the rule, but then he'd understood that Vegeta would never try to know where he was going or why, nor prevent him to do as he wished. The Saiyan had indeed considered that his son was big enough to take care of himself, and having the boy's rapport about his going in and out had only been a way to chase Vegeta's terrible feeling that things were getting out of hand. He had needed to regain some sort of control on what was going on in his own home. Yet in doing so he'd discovered Trunks's busy night life.

It had nothing to do with the way Bulma pictured her son. She was sure Trunks would warn her before exiting the house, even if it was to take out the garbage, and that little bastard was good at preserving that illusion.

That double game puzzled his father and even with how awkward it made him feel, he wasn't willing to reveal the truth to his wife. It would only create trouble in the family and it sounded unnecessary to him. Most of all, he had no desire to endure Bulma's pointless worrying for weeks, just like he was enduring them tonight. He only craved for things to come back to normal after Bulla's sleepwalking issues.

"She's asleep, everything's fine." Bulma announced when she showed up back from her round.

"How surprising," Vegeta mumbled.

"This wait is driving me crazy. Will you watch a movie with me?" she offered.

"No way," he grunted.

"Why not? Just one movie. I want someone by my side," she pleaded with disappointment.

"Why not? Because this wait is driving _you_ crazy and _you_ will drive _me_ crazy. That's the first thing. The second thing is I hate TV and you know that."

She blinked in a seductive way. "I'll let you pick out the movie you want. Whatever you want. Please."

"No."

She pouted. "Then, I'll have no choice but to follow you everywhere you go and speak without stopping until your eardrums start bleeding. You know I'm good at that."

He knew she'd do it. Under normal circumstances he would just fly out the house and go sleep somewhere else in order to have some peace, but the fear that Bulla could sleepwalk again prevented him from leaving Bulma alone with the kid. "Go ahead, pick a goddam movie." he sighed in resignation.

She gave a triumphant smile and dragged him to the living room. As soon as he sat on the fluffy sofa, with the weight of Bulma's warm body coiled up against his side and the lights turned off, he felt his mind sinking into drowsiness. The TV's mumbling lulled him a bit more and he felt asleep very quick.

He woke up with a jump at the sudden sound of glass getting broken. Bulma was still sitting next to him and she stiffened with concern. "Bulla," she whispered with panic when their eyes met. Vegeta jumped to his feet and dashed upstairs. Bulma couldn't keep up with his speed and he was the first one to burst into the nursery.

In a glance he spotted nothing unusual and ran further to Bulla's room. Except for the night light, everything was dark and quiet. Straight up his attention was caught by the curtains flying in the wind. He walked closer to the window. Indeed there was no longer a real window, but a hole in the wall with some pieces of frame hanging from the edge. The bed was empty.

"Is everything alright?" Bulma yelled from the corridor. "Why didn't this goddam alarm go off?"

Vegeta was still leaning outside in an attempt to see anything. He stared at the sky first and tried to feel his daughter's ki.

"Fuck! What the hell…" Bulma exclaimed in his back.

She pushed him aside brusquely in order to look at the former window and he had to catch her by the collar to prevent her from falling down. She was calling her daughter with panic.

"Calm down and shut up!" he growled.

She turned to him with rage. "Where is she?" she screamed. "Was she attacked by anything? You are the one who's supposed to spot any threat that kind, so where is she?"

"She wasn't attacked. It's obvious, look at the window, idiot! It was destroyed from inside." he replied harshly.

Bulma froze and gazed at the hole in the wall. She frowned. "You mean… You mean, Bulla did this? How… How… " she stammered with bewilderment.

"I remind you she's strong enough for that," he spat.

Bulma leaned back out the window. "Yeah… Right, but still… She can't fly for God's sake. Maybe she just fell down and she's wounded. Oh, God. Bulla! Honey! Are you down there? Mum's coming down, don't move!"

"Bulma, I don't think…" Vegeta tried to object.

Yet his wife was already gone and running downstairs to explore the garden. He didn't hold her back and again focused on the sky. Bulma was right, their daughter had never learned how to fly, but that didn't mean she couldn't fly. Just like she never learned how to smash windows. It was very clear to him, she was sleepwalking again and doing things she wouldn't do normally.

He took off in the dark sky and tried to locate her ki again. He couldn't find her and this detail made him nervous straight away. It could only mean two things. Either, there was no more ki to feel, but that wasn't an option to him, or she was suppressing her ki and that would be very surprising. Suppressing kis demanded a special self-control for it was nothing natural. His daughter was too young and far too inexperienced for that.

Regardless to the fuzzy rain wetting his mane, Vegeta floated for a while with indecisiveness. He tried to ignore the panic creeping in his guts as nothing came to his senses to help him locate his daughter. He could hardly hear Bulma's voice calling Bulla in the distance.

And then, after what seemed an eternity, a very shy energy surged somewhere far away. He wasn't even sure it was her but he needed to believe it was her. It was downtown and he rushed in that direction.

The closer he was, the more accurate it became. Relief overwhelmed him when he spotted the girl standing on a sidewalk in a desert street. He was unable to contain the brutality in his voice when he barked her name.

She was bare-feet and still wearing her torn night-gown. She had a jump when she heard him and she looked up at him with confusion. "Daddy !" she whined with hope. She jumped on him and hugged his waist with an unexpected strength.

Only at that moment, Vegeta's heart beating started to calm down. He crouched in order to be at her level. She clutched her arms around his neck as if her life was depending on him. "I was lost, I was so scared", she sobbed.

"It's over for now. How did you come here?" he asked while trying to release himself from her desperate grip.

She blinked and frowned, pondering about an answer. After a second though, she whispered with some disbelief, "I think, I flew".

"So, you can fly ?"

"No, I can't. I mean…" She paused. She looked puzzled and helpless as she was thinking about an explanation. Yet, the effort seemed too hard for her mind and after a while, she started to cry again, "Where is mummy? I'm cold."

Vegeta realized that she was soaked by the rain and trembling. He understood that she was way too disturbed to answer his questions. He sighed and wrapped his arm around her to rubb her back in order to warm her up. He needed answers, though. He craved for them. He had to insist before taking off. "Bulla, you remember that you flew, so maybe you also remember why you came here in the first place?" he asked again with a stern voice.

She pressed her tiny face in his collarbone with a whimp. "The Jabberwocky woke me up. He was very, very angry and I feared that he'd hurt someone. I wanted to stop him, I really wanted it but I was too scared in the end. And then, I got lost. I'm so sorry, Dad", she mumbled while whining again.

He could feel her nose running on his shoulder and the rain was getting harder. He watched the street in an attempt to spot anything unusual in this place but it was only a deserted, dark and silent street. She must have been dreaming of something so intense that it had triggered her sleepwalk. He patted her soaked hair. "It's okay, let's go home. Your mum must be completely insane by now."

When they entered the house, Bulla was already almost asleep with her head resting on her father's shoulder. Vegeta called Bulma but she didn't answer. He could guess, she'd taken her plane to seek her daughter on her own throughout the neigborhood. That woman couldn't stand still one minute.

However, when he wanted to close the door, he noticed that she had tapped a paper on it. He squinted and tried to decipher it. Reading Bulma's writing had always been a challenge to him but this time she had made the effort to write in capital letters.

SOMETHING WRONG AT TRUNKS' PARTY- HAD TO GO THERE- CALL ON MY CELL ABOUT BULLA.

"Fuck," he sighed with gritted teeth.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	11. Chapter 11

_Hi. I swear I never meant to make a cliffhanger in the previous chapter, I just cut my chapters senselessly. Forgive me for that, I realized it was a cliffhanger only when I received the reviews._

 _By the way, thank you very much for all of them. Special thank for 'Guest' for his/her review in french, it was a nice reward for my effort to write in English._

 _Also, as a reply to Black Star Princess suggesting the use of the dragon balls to help the situation, I scarcely go that easy way in my stories. Where would be the fun if Shenron could chase all the clouds and have an endless happy sun shining in a blink? Let's leave him alone unless the situation turns really desperate (like apocalypse or bedbugs' invasion for example)._

 _ **Kalebxdd** beta read this one again. (yes the very same that writes great stories like White Lines, enjoy them as well)_

* * *

 **Chapter 11.**

He opened his eyes with a start. "Shit," he mumbled while rubbing his tired eyes. Despite his will to stay awake, he'd fallen asleep, his back leaning against the bedframe. The cosy mattress and his daughter's warm body by his side had pulled him into drowsiness without any warning.

He looked down at Bulla. She was still wrapped in the comforter, motionless. Her hair was fuzzy from the rain as well as from his clumsy attempt to dry it with a towel. Her regular breathing was the only sound in the room. He was relieved to find out she was still sleeping peacefully with her doll in her arms.

Through the window he could see the sky was becoming clearer. It wouldn't take long for the Sun to rise. He watched Bulma's alarm clock on the nightstand. It was six-thirty and still his son and wife weren't home. He wondered what took them so long.

In fact, he had called Bulma earlier in the night to let her know Bulla was safe and back. After an instant of relief, Bulma had started to yell about Trunks and his guests. She was pissed. Beyond pissed. He hadn't understood half of her infuriated complaints because she had talked so quickly, so loudly, while placing a "fucking" between each word. The only things he could get were that one of the kids got injured and there was alcohol at the party. The rest of the story was drowned in a deafening, senseless yammering. Anyway, whether he liked it or not, he would get all the details very soon.

He'd watched Bulla sleeping in his bed the whole night, except for the embarrassing part where he fell asleep, and he still wasn't sure if that sight was soothing his concern or fanning it. She looked so hurtable and tiny in the middle of the huge bed.

The sound of the main door downstairs snatched him from his thoughts. He heard Bulma's angry whispers and Trunks's steps along with hers. Vegeta stood up and joined them in the hallway.

As soon as he saw his wife's face, he decided the best thing to do would be to keep silent and to ask no questions. Maybe she wouldn't say anything and would just go to bed with Bulla, which would allow him to sneak into the kitchen and have a big, quiet breakfast.

"How's Bulla?" she asked.

"Fine. She's sleeping in our room," he answered with caution.

She ruined all his dreams of quietness while resuming with bitterness. "We just came from the hospital, we spent almost the whole night there. The poor kid had his face smashed and several bones are broken. I had to explain that to his parents, a true nightmare."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and tried to hide the fact that he had no idea what she was speaking of. Yet, she could read his mind like an open book and sighed with irritation. "I told you, one of Trunks's guest fell through a window-pane. Wanna explain further, Trunks?" she hissed while turning to her son.

Trunks had his head down and his arms crossed on his chest, as if waiting for the end of the storm. "It's okay,Mum. He'll survive."

She gave him a slight slap on the head but he dodged her move. "Don't talk like nothing happened, you stupid moron! You drank!"

"Not so much," Trunks objected.

"Not so much!" Bulma exclaimed with fury, "Trunks, Should I remind you we had a deal about alcohol? Now, you reek of vodka or some surgical spirit, and your friends weren't a pretty sight either. The few that no longer had the wit to run away weren't even able to explain exactly what happened."

She turned back to Vegeta and added with indignation. "The only thing they could say was that they had an argument, and one of them fell through a window pane and down the stairs. Pretty ugly result, I have to say, and the bastard supposed to watch them said he didn't see anything. He also pretended he didn't see that the kids brought alcohol inside the club. Fucking liar, he won't get his money, trust me."

"Mum, you've been yelling and swearing the whole night, don't you feel like we could have some sleep, now?" Trunks mumbled with an annoyed face.

Bulma froze and Vegeta knew his son had just made a very bad move. Bulma resumed with a cold, self-assured voice that put him into a cold sweat. "Wait, wait. Do you really think you can go have sweet dreams now? That's not going to happen that way and neither is your Dad going to sneak into the kitchen to get a quiet breakfast, by the way."

Vegeta sighed and rolled his eyes. "What the hell do I have to do with this?"

As a reply Bulma just glared at him. "I'm going to make it very clear to you both," she explained. "Trunks, you won't have any nights out until I decide otherwise, that's the first thing. From now on your computer will be locked in my office, that's the second thing, and the last thing is I'll make sure your cell and game console will have a curfew of every night at ten. And since I fear that those rules might make you very bored, your father will take care of some training plan for you."

Both men cringed at the same time. "Mum…" Trunks groaned. Straight up, Vegeta glared at him as a reminder that, with his mother, bad words at the bad time could be dreadful. The boy just shut up and frowned.

"Nothing to object, I guess?" Bulma added with her fist on her hips while looking at her husband, and then at her son. "Now, I'm drained. Whoever thinks I deserve to have my breakfast in bed when I wake up will find me in my room. Gentlemen, good night."

She started to walk upstairs but stopped and whirled around all of sudden. She pointed at her husband. "A last thing, my Prince. We will go and see Bulla's fucking shrink, this afternoon and you'll come with me this time," she announced with a bossy voice.

He repressed a sigh but prevented himself from retorting anything.

When Bulma had disappeared, he gave a stern look at this son. "Fuck," Trunks mumbled with gritted teeth.

"You can say that. You screwed up, boy," Vegeta groaned.

"She won't do it. I mean, it won't last long, I know how to deal with her," the teenager replied.

"I saw that," Vegeta spat with sarcasm.

Trunks smirked and glanced at him. "Meanwhile, we'll have to spar for a while. So, we could resume our little questioning game."

Vegeta closed his eyes with tiredness. "Go to bed, your mother's right, you're drunk."

Trunks chuckled and shrugged. Seeing his son walking upstairs with a weary step, Vegeta felt this day was going to be a hard one. As usual his instinct proved to be right.

Bulla woke up much earlier than her mother and brother and he had to fix lunch for her, which was a chore for him. The child was herself again, as if nothing special had happened. Vegeta still wondered how she suppressed her ki the night before, but it was clear Bulla wouldn't be able to give him any answers.

They had lunch alone in the kitchen. Her doll was sitting on the table next to Bulla's glass and the girl seemed to have a very serious talk with the toy, meanwhile ignoring her silent father. She was lecturing the doll who wouldn't eat anything.

As he was watching her behaving that way and thinking back to the previous night, he wondered to what extent she believed in that imaginary world she'd built. Could it be that she truly believed that her doll needed to be fed? Would it be insanity if it was the case? He needed to make it clear.

"Bulla, your mum told you not to play while sitting at the dinner table," he groaned. He grabbed the toy and set it aside.

The girl blinked in surprise. "Why did you do that Dad? Mary-Sue hasn't finished her lunch, yet," Bulla hissed.

"Your doll doesn't need any lunch and since you're sitting in front of a real person, it's very rude to have it here on the table and talk to it as if I wasn't there," he retorted with a quiet voice.

Bulla pinched her lips in bewilderment. "Well, I never thought you would mind, you hardly speak to me when we're eating together," she stated with innocence.

"I 'm still there though and I'm still more important than a mere doll, am I not?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. Just not as funny as Mary-Sue," the child pouted.

He couldn't help a weak smile at that conclusion. "So, you're well aware, your Mary-Sue isn't a real person."

"Of course, I'm not a baby anymore, what do you think? I'm just pretending," she replied while rolling her eyes.

"And neither is the Jabbywaller," he resumed.

"The Jabberwocky?" she corrected with a frown.

"He doesn't exist indeed, right?" Vegeta insisted.

She wiggled with unease and focused back on her plate's content without answering.

"Bulla," Vegeta insisted, "You know the Jabby-thing is in your head, he can't hurt anyone."

"That's not true, he exists," she mumbled.

"Bulla, look me in the eyes. He doesn't exist. Even if he did, I'd never let him hurt you, I could fight him, you know how strong I am."

She looked up at her father with embarrassment and nodded. "Sure, Dad. I know you're the strongest Dad on Earth and even stronger that the Jabberwocky, no doubt, but he has something special, you'd never kill him."

Vegeta shrugged. "Anyway, he doesn't exist, so what are we talking about? Just admit he's imaginary,"

"I don't want to speak about him with you. It might just wake him up and he'll be in a bad mood. I'm not hungry anymore, can I go painting in the nursery?"

"Whatever," Vegeta grumbled with a sigh.

The girl was stubborn. As stubborn as her mother. And that imaginary friend was no longer as cute as Bulma had found him in the first place. This short talk with his daughter still didn't answer his question about her insanity. As much as he knew, insanity was a disconnection from reality and the Jabber-thing was a solid proof of such a disconnection. Did that mean Bulla suffered from some mental disease? She believed so much in the Jabberwocky that it could have her sleepwalking and doing dangerous things.

As he suspected, the stupid shrink didn't seem to have real answers to his questions either. It was a weird old man with an incredible white mane that made him look like a mad man escaped from an asylum.

When Vegeta seated himself on the other side of the desk next to Bulma, the first thing the Saiyan noticed was the man's varicoloured bowtie. That ridiculous detail gave Vegeta the strong desire to leave this fool's office at once. Could they seriously trust that clown to find a solution to their daughter's problem? All that only by talking? Vegeta himself felt ridiculous and if it hadn't been for Bulma's very touchy mood, he wouldn't have stayed there one more minute.

"So, Bulla has been sleepwalking again?" the guy mumbled while clasping his hand in front of him with nervousness. "Did she do something dangerous?"

"Hardly, Doc, she jumped out the window. Nothing serious," Bulma groaned with sarcasm.

The man frowned and contemplated his fingers for a while.

"You've been seeing her for three weeks and we thought things were going better, you have to be frank with us now. If there's nothing you can do for her, just stop taking the money and let us know," Bulma spat.

"Things are not so simple, Mrs Briefs, all this takes time and… "

"For God's sake, I can't listen to such crap. You feel like we have time? What is she going to do next? Drink a whole bottle of bleach? When will it be? Tonight? Tomorrow? Tell me what you know or shut up,", the heiress hissed.

The guy sighed and looked up at them all of a sudden. "My opinion is that Bulla faced something traumatic and her brain merely erased the memory of it," he announced with a clear voice.

Bulma jumped. "What do you mean something traumatic?"

He shrugged. "That's what I'm trying to discover. See, her brain forbids the event coming back to her mind but still, it's disturbing her and I think it surges back when she's asleep and her brain is less vigilant. Which would explain the sleepwalking."

Bulma frowned and glanced at Vegeta. The Saiyan rolled his eyes to show her he didn't buy the story. Looking like a mad clown, this guy was indeed a true businessman trying to get her money. Bulma cleared her throat and focused back on the shrink.

"Okay, so what could it be? I mean she has such a normal life. School, home, ballet lessons and holidays at her grandparent's inbetween, what kind of events could she face without us knowing?" she resumed with suspicion.

The clown sighed again. "This could be anything, Mrs Briefs. A car crash, someone having a heart attack. Kids are very impressionable. Let me show you something and you'll understand. Bulla likes painting as you know and that's my luck, cause drawing help a lot with children that age. Have you ever seen Bulla's painting?"

"Well, yes, of course," Bulma stammered with a hint of unease.

"Ever noticed anything about them?"

"Well, in general she likes to mix all the colors and it doesn't look like something special."

"Exactly, look," the doctor said while opening a drawer. He took out a stack of papers and laid them on his desk. There were all paintings picturing a brown mess very similar to what Bulla liked to achieve. "Those are Bulla's paintings."

"I recognize them. I have tons of them home," Bulma stated.

The old man pointed at the papers. "The real drawing is underneath the paint. She draws something and then she mixes all the colors in order to cover what she first did and hide it. Just like her brain does with what she saw. Her brain drowns her traumatic memory deep down inside in order to hide it. It's called selective memory as a defense mechanism for her mind."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Hey, wait! So, you saw what she drew underneath the paint, what was it?" she exclaimed.

"I had no time to see because she never wanted to draw when I was in the room with her in the first place. Then, I found out why she acted that way and she stopped painting. I realized what she did thanks to the cameras in my working room, yet we can't see much of the drawing on the tapes, it looks like some kind of huge climbing plant. I'm not sure of it. I'm not even sure those drawing would help us a lot indeed."

He paused and contemplated the painting with puzzled eyes. Bulma was gnawing her fingernail with nervousness.

"So, what can we do?" she resumed, "I mean, even if your explanation is right, it seems that she doesn't want to speak about it…"

"She can't, Mrs Briefs, she can't. Her mind is locked, she isn't even aware she has a secret," the old man corrected.

"Whatever, she doesn't want or she can't disclose what's wrong, yet she's sleepwalking again and it's stressful and dangerous. Is there anything we can do to prevent it?"

The doctor raised his hand with helplessness. "Had she been a grown-up, I would have prescribed some drugs but she's too young for that. So, I thought to try something else. Do you know hypnosis?"

Bulma couldn't contain a chuckle. "You're kidding? Is that the only thing you have to offer?" she grumbled with disbelief.

"That, or at least six months of nightly observations. Well, I say six months, but it could be as well a year or two before her mind accepts to open itself," he replied with a flat, cold voice. "Now you're free to look for another option if it exists, Mrs Briefs. My only aim is to help your daughter."

Bulma kept quiet and gave a shy, hesitant look at Vegeta. He could read her distraught in her blue orbs and, although he wouldn't show it, he wasn't far from sharing it. As much as he despised that mad clown in front of them, he liked his story better than the idea that his daughter was insane. Yes, "disturbed" was better than "insane" and he had to admit once again, he had no better offer than the shrink. If only he had the slightest clue of what was going on.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	12. Chapter 12

_Priviet ! Thank you for all your nice things again. I love all your suppositions, some closer to the truth than others. French guest, I love your accent :)_

 _ **Kalebxdd** beta read that chapter once again and still alive. Enjoy his amazing work if not already done._

* * *

 **Chapter 12.**

As he was standing bare feet in the corridor in front of the door to Trunks's room, Vegeta realized he had never considered that stupid grinning skull plastered here. It was supposed to be somehow threatening and Vegeta found it stupid to hope to scare anyone with such a joke. The day his son had the bright idea to tape it to his door, Bulma had nagged for a whole week about that ugly, moronic thing. Then, she got used to it and she forgot about it. Bulla had found it frightening for a while, but now nobody in the house ever paid any attention to that bloody skull anymore.

 _You've been warned_.

Yet, watching that poster in his sleeping house, after that painful weekend, Vegeta had the feeling that the grimacing face had indeed never tried to give him a threatening message. In fact, it had only been laughing in his face from the very beginning, as if calling him an idiot and mocking him for being stupid and blind.

The Saiyan closed his eyes to chase that ridiculous idea from his mind. He was aware that he was on edge. He gave a faint sigh and entered his son's room. The weak morning light was fighting the creeping shadows and everything was still.

As usual, Trunks's desk was overcrowded by a messy stack of books and papers, but the table where the computer had been set up was now empty. Bulma had carried out her threat . The device was gone and whenever Trunks wanted to use it, he had to ask her access to her office. The boy had been mad when she'd moved his beloved machine. However, when she was angry, Bulma feared no one. Vegeta had learned that lesson a long time ago.

In the dim light, he spotted his son's body under the comforter. He was still asleep. The Saiyan was so used to see him up all night that he was almost surprised to find out that Trunks still needed some sleep.

Vegeta made a step toward the bed with the will to wake him up but he had a second thought.

Instead of heading to the bed, he came closer to the desk. He gazed at the papers and books scattered on it. Schoolbooks, notebooks. Nothing extraordinary. On the wall above the desk a jungle of little papers had been pinned. He focused on them and started to examine them with care, lifting some of them to have a better view on the ones pinned below. Varicolored flyers, tiny pictures, hand-written notes. There were advertisment for underground parties, memos noted down in chicken scratch and some pictures, scarcer yet more interesting to him.

The bigger picture that first caught his attention had been cut out off a magazine. It was a blonde girl with a borsalino hat on her head and a cigarette between her red lips, giving a suggestive wink to the camera. Her shirt was just unbuttoned enough to have the watcher imagine what was hiding underneath the fabric.

A little further, he found a tiny, old, damaged picture of Trunks and Goten as kids and another one of Trunks's basketball team when he was in middle school. A teenager's world, Vegeta guessed.

When he was about to turn to the bed, his eyes spotted a last picture that had been taped apart from the rest. It was a small one. He picked it up from the wall to watch it closer. It was a bit blurry. A young girl with long brown hair was speaking to someone out of the frame. She had a half-smile and didn't look frankly at the camera. Despite the bad quality of the picture, you could see she had sparkling, light eyes and her face was still somehow childlike. She also had a nose stud.

Vegeta had hardly noticed that detail in the weak light of the room. He frowned and turned the picture to find out something had been scribbled on its back. _Becky at the lake._

"Dad? What the hell are you doing in here?" Trunks's voice groaned behind him.

The Saiyan looked up at the bed. His son was resting on one elbow and rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand.

"It's time to wake up. Did you forget our training session?" Vegeta answered.

Trunks ran a weary hand through his hair. "Fuck. Is this really necessary? I mean…Who cares? Besides, I'm on vacation, could we do that crap later in the day?" he mumbled while crawling back under the covers.

The Saiyan walked closer to the bed and kicked it hard enough to have it tremble dangerously. "Get up, I won't say it again."

Trunks gave a deep sigh. His half open eyes widened all of a sudden and he sat up with hurry as he noticed the picture in his father's hand. He pried it out from his grip in a blink. "I'm coming, just get out of my room," the boy grumbled.

Vegeta didn't move straight away. He was tempted to ask his son if the girl in the picture was the dead one. Yet he knew she was. He became aware that Trunks was missing her. It was logical after all and Trunks himself had said he would. The Saiyan knew that feeling too well although he'd never expressed it openly. Good or bad, a loss was a loss. It would more or less turn one's world upside down and there was always a need to adjust to life after that. That was what Earthlings called missing something or someone. One could miss places, moments, or people, but a loss was always a loss. Vegeta pointed out that Trunks was dealing with that much more like he would himself, rather than how a mere Earthling would. For sure, he would never use the 'talking solution'.

"I'll wait for you in the Gravity Room," the Saiyan replied without further comment.

When he joined his father Trunks seemed to be cheerful again. He began to stretch while Vegeta was setting the devices.

"Hey, Dad, remember? We have to resume that questioning game again," the boy announced in a playful voice.

"No way," Vegeta answered while focusing on the room's gravity control.

"Come on, Dad. I'll give you a much harder time if I there's a reward at stake," Trunks pleaded.

Vegeta turned to him with a frown. "Damn, Trunks. Stop it. I don't want to answer your questions, what's the point?"

"What's the point? Huh… Well, sometimes I'd like to know where I come from. I mean, all my friends know their parent's life by heart, what they did as jobs in their youth, how their grandparents raised them and all. I don't even have a father's job to mention in my school's brief." Trunks sighed.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "So? 'None' sounds as good as anything else to me."

The teenager pouted with disappointment. "Come on, I really want to know, Dad. Tell me about your life before you landed on Earth. I can take it."

Vegeta frowned. For sure, his son couldn't take it, he didn't even know what he was talking about. "It was a rotten, ruthless life. I swear you wouldn't like the story of it. That's the only thing you need to know," the Saiyan retorted with a harsh tone that meant the end of the discussion.

Then, as a means to have his son shut up, he bounced on him without any warning. Trunks dodged the unfair attack with a shout of protest. He was still as quick as the last time they sparred, but his father found out very soon that he would refuse any fight for today.

Trunks kept avoiding most of the blows Vegeta would launch at him but he would never respond, nor would he make any attempt to strike him. This behavior was fanning Vegeta's anger because it was an obvious answer to his refusal to confess anything about his past. Just like his mother, Trunks was clever at handling people and he knew exactly what button to press and when.

The kid took it all without any complaint and even when he was nothing but a bleeding mess, he never tried anything against his father.

"Stupid, stubborn moron!" Vegeta hissed while giving him a last kick out of frustration.

"I love you too, Dad," Trunks chuckled while wiping the blood dripping from his lips.

"Go on! Get the fuck out of here, now!" Vegeta spat with bitterness.

The teenager stood up and glanced at his father with a weird expression. Vegeta thought he was about to say something but he didn't, and just walked out the room with a limping step.

Vegeta sighed. He didn't understand. He couldn't get why Trunks wanted to know about his father's fucking past. The boy knew everything he needed to know. Vegeta had been a Prince, then an orphan, then a soldier. End of the story. The Saiyan himself had buried that part of his life deep down his memory and he felt no desire to dig into that shit.

He deactivated the room and went back to the house. He was starving. The day had broken but the sun was still blurred by dirty grey clouds. It was almost freezing.

He found Bulma in the kitchen, sitting alone in front of her breakfast and looking at nothing in particular. He understood she'd just woken up and wouldn't be too talkative for now. A good thing.

He sat opposite of her and she hardly paid any attention to him. However after a while, she asked with a flat voice, "Are you trying to beat our son to a pulp?"

"I'd love to," he grunted.

She looked up at him. "Your Highness is in a bad mood today and I can't even blame you. Just spare his brain, he doesn't use it very often yet, but he might need it later in his life."

"He's a total moron," the Saiyan added.

"I agree. The boy that was injured at his party needed surgery, the parents called me to let me know. Poor kid, I don't get how this birthday became such a mess," she sighed.

"They drank a lot," Vegeta huffed matter-of-factly.

Bulma lowered her head in unease. He bet she felt guilty for what happened at Trunks's party.

She seemed to get lost in her thought again, but she whispered all of sudden "I decided to call back the shrink."

He flinched and frowned. "That crook."

"Maybe. Yet, he was the only one to give a logical explanation about this hell so far. Besides, you have to admit that at this point we don't have much to lose."

As usual, Bulma had a scientific, rational thought and he had nothing to object to her statement. Moreover, it was her money and she could afford to waste it. As long as she was aware that she wasn't buying great hope, Vegeta was fine with that. Nothing was worse than the feeling of powerlessness. However, to him hypnosis was just one more swindle.

She was staring at him, expecting his approval. Despite his thoughts, Vegeta couldn't help but nod as he felt that she needed it.

Their silence was broken by the sound of a slight step heading to the kitchen and Bulla showed up in the room with a beam on her face. Bulma smiled back to her with gentleness. "Hi, Princess, you're up already? It's vacation, though. Remember?"

The little girl frowned. "Sure, but I have my dance rehearsal."

Bulma's mouth opened in confusion as a confession that she'd been oblivious of that point. "S… Sure!" she exclaimed while hugging her daughter.

Bulla already had her tutu on and Bulma seemed even more awkward for having forgotten such a special event in her daughter's life. "Give me a minute, I need to get dressed, honey. I'll be right back."

Bulla climbed on her chair while Bulma left the kitchen in a hurry. The girl still had her bright smile and her eyes were shining with glee. "Hey Dad, you know what's up today? The teacher will pick out one of us to be… guess what?"

Vegeta raised a puzzled eyebrow. "To be what?"

"Sugarplum Fairy!" she announced with excitement. "Remember we will play The Nutcracker? All the girls in the ballet -well they're nice but they're a bit dumb - they all want to be Clara but I will be the Sugarplum Fairy! It's the best character ever."

She gave a little joyful laugh. He was watching her with great confusion. He had no idea what she was talking about or what The Nutcracker, that Clara or the Sugar-thing Fairy could be. Yet, the girl seemed so glad at the thought of all those things. He could even feel her vibrating ki.

She started babbling about her ballet and the costume she would wear, hopping on her chair as she was no longer able to contain her excitement.

He wasn't listening to her anymore but he couldn't unlock his eyes from her. She was exactly what he wanted her to be again. She was ecstatic while talking about that ridiculous ballet, and the mere idea that she would have a glittering tutu and would pretend to be a fairy was enough to make her jubilant. No more Jabberwocky or sleepwalk under the cold rain, no more blood on the kitchen floor, just a perfect happiness in a perfect world where no one could get hurt.

It hurt him to realize such world was exactly what she deserved, and what he wasn't able to ensure her.

Bulma came back dressed up holding Bulla's jacket in her hand. "Honey, hurry, I'll wait for you in the car," she said while handing out the garment to her daughter.

Bulla swallowed her chocolate in one gulp and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Before leaving the kitchen, she came closer to her father and kissed him on the cheek all of sudden. Then, she put her hood on and whispered with a devilish smirk. "I'll be the one, Dad. I'll be Sugarplum Fairy,"

He flinched at her touch. She didn't kiss him very often. She knew he didn't like it very much. Her kisses were always wet, noisy, sticky, intrusive somehow, and he always had to suppress a backlash when she gave them. Not today. He'd been caught off guard by her move but he'd felt no desire to dodge her kiss today because it was a sign that she was still the same. She was still that boisterous but good-natured little girl. At that very moment it seemed impossible that she could be insane or disturbed or anything abnormal.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	13. Chapter 13

_Hey, thank you very much for all your feedbacks._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _is still beta reading this story and I have to thank him. (As usual don't forget to take a glance at his work, if not already done I mean.)_

* * *

 **Chapter 13.**

It took him two hours of running before his mind could get rid of his anger against Trunks and his fear about Bulla. Concern was exhausting. It clouded any rational thought and tainted his every feeling. As long as it had been concern about himself, it had never bothered him. As long as it had been about him surviving, getting stronger or defeating any foe, he'd always dealt pretty good with concern. Now, he had to worry for his kids and it was something different. He questioned every single decision he took, he was suspicious about any single idea popping up in his head. All this left him clueless and blind. Doubt was a new kind of torture he'd never faced before.

As he was back and drinking water at the kitchen's tap, the doorbell rang. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and waited for a second, hoping that someone in the house would feel like opening the door. Yet, Bulma and Bulla weren't home and he could hear the humming of some terrible music coming from Trunks's room. For sure, the boy hadn't heard anything. Vegeta resigned himself to walking to the door and opening it with a sigh.

Krillin's daughter. Again. She was standing stiff with an annoyed face on the porch. Vegeta rubbed his eyelids with a weary gesture. "So, what is it today?" he asked.

"I need to see Trunks."

He was almost relieved by this reply and stepped aside to clear her way inside. "Upstairs. Remember where his room is? You just have to follow that horrible sound he calls music anyway."

She glanced at him and frowned. She seemed nervous or angry as if expecting something from him. However, whatever her problem was, Vegeta had no desire to know anything about it. He was fed up with all those kids' problems.

He ignored her gaze with great care and left her behind as he headed to his room in order to have his shower while she was walking to Trunks's room. As he was about to get undressed, he felt Trunks's ki flaring all of a sudden. He pinpointed anger straight away. It was an evil, unusual anger.

After a second thought, he decided to walk out and check if everything was fine. Deep down inside his mind he knew nothing was fine, though. Trunks's ki was getting much too high for a mere argument with another kid.

When he stepped into the corridor, he heard a muffled thud and an angry shout, causing a faint vibration in the wall. Krillin's daughter yelled something.

Vegeta didn't understand the words but he recognized panic. He bursted into his son's room and cringed as he found the boy had grasped his friend's throat and slammed her against the wall. She was struggling with fury, yet without any results. "Let go of me, Trunks! You hurt me!"

She could hardly utter the words due to the strong grip on her throat. Vegeta didn't wait, nor tried to say anything he pushed his son aside with strength in order to release the girl. Trunks let go of her and fell on the floor, bumping violently the bed in the process. Marron gasped and collapsed with a loud thug.

"Are you getting mad?" the Saiyan asked his boy with bewilderment.

Trunks didn't try to get up, nor looked up at his father. "Tell her to get the fuck out of this house," he merely spat.

"Freaky psychopathic," she hissed as she was trying to stand up while rubbing her aching throat.

"Shut up!" Trunks screamed with a threatening tone, standing up in one go.

Vegeta was puzzled. He looked at the girl panting and leaning against the wall. "Get out of this room," he ordered her.

She glanced at Trunks with grudge and obliged silently. The Saiyan closed the door behind her and glared at his son. "What the hell do you think you were doing? Trying to kill her?"

Trunks was massaging the shoulder his father had punched. His features were uncommunicative and Vegeta understood he wouldn't answer. The Saiyan couldn't accept such unconcerned behavior. If it hadn't been for him stepping in, Trunks could have really wounded the girl or even worse. He couldn't leave him act so thoughtlessly, his son was supposed to be old enough to master his strength and power. "Look at me," Vegeta ordered with a cold voice.

The boy did as he was told. His eyes were still burning with some rage Vegeta had never seen in him. "I don't care why you both were arguing, what you did was just crazy," the Saiyan resumed.

"She needed a lesson, I just wanted to scare her," Trunks mumbled with unease.

In a blink, Vegeta was on his son and punched him in the jaw. Trunks was caught off guard and fell on his knees with a hiss. His mouth was bleeding again. Vegeta had grasped his neck and was clenching his finger on it in order to keep the boy still. "Don't you take me for a fool, Son. You didn't intend to scare her, you wanted to hurt her. Do you think I wouldn't see the difference? What the hell is wrong with you? You just refused to give me a single blow while sparring and now, you're attacking a weak little girl? Did you lose your head?"

Trunks was struggling in an attempt to get rid of his father grip and gasped as he felt it tighten on his neck instead.

"Now, it seems that you need some more training to learn how to keep a cool head with people around you. I'll take care of that," Vegeta stated.

All of sudden Trunks cried out and pushed his father backward. Vegeta almost lost his balance while his son bolted up.

"Fuck! Leave me alone!" the boy yelled with anger. "Stop pretending you care because you don't. You never gave a damn. You don't care for Marron, nor for the other Earthlings, nor for how I feel. As long as nothing disturbs your obsession with your training, you care like shit. Why don't you just act as usual and just get locked in your beloved Gravity Room?"

Vegeta was taken aback by this outburst and stayed still at his son's word. Trunks didn't wait for his reply and just rushed out the room. The Saiyan heard his steps running down the stairs and the house's backdoor slamming, then everything went silent. Vegeta remained numb for a while and followed mentally his son's ki flying off from the garden and speeding away.

When he exited the room, he found Krillin's daughter sitting on the floor in the corridor, her head leaning against the wall behind her. Their eyes met.

"He went that way," she stated while pointing at the stairs.

"You really think it's the best time to joke?" Vegeta groaned.

"I didn't know there was a best time to joke with you," she replied bitterly.

He stared at her. She was still rubbing her throat. Her voice was lower than usual and she was short of breath but he estimated that everything should be back to normal soon. She would survive.

"You wanna call someone?" he asked.

She had a little laugh, that actually rather sounded like a wheeze, and stood up with an obvious pain. "It's okay, I'll make it. Anyway, it would be better if my mum never heard of that because Trunks would be in deep shit. Just give me a glass of water before I go."

When they walked to the kitchen, he noticed the red stains of Trunks's grip on her pale throat. It put him in a cold sweat thinking how much his son had screwed up.

"I'll wear a scarf," Marron said all of a sudden, snatching him from his meditations.

He met her stern eyes and felt awkward to realize she could guess his every thoughts. He nodded and poured her a glass of water. She took a seat at the counter and swallowed a shy gulp from the glass. She winced in pain as the liquid slid down her throat. "Bastard," she mumbled with a frown.

Vegeta had crossed his arms and was leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for her to be done.

"You're not going to ask?" she resumed after a while.

He raised a surprised eyebrow. "Ask what?"

She sighed and gave him a weak smile. "Trunks's right. You don't give a damn, do you?"

Vegeta frowned and pouted. He didn't like that girl very much from the beginning, she was cheeky and always getting on his nerves. "Mind your own business, girl."

She chuckled. "I'll try that. I was just wondering, what about _your_ own business? Do you mind them yourself?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I can't believe you don't even try to know what we were arguing about, or what happened at the party."

He huffed. "Huh. That party, so you were there?"

"Yes I was. The boy that ended up in the hospital is one of my best friends."

"So, let me guess. You were all pissed and your pathetic friend stumbled and fell through a windowpane. What a glorious story indeed."

She bit her lips and her features became stern. "This is the politically correct side of the story. Of course, I guess you bought it. How convenient after all."

He repressed an annoyed sigh and came closer to her. He rested his elbows on the counter and looked her right in her eyes with an intimidating, cold face. "I bought it because it seemed very likely coming from brainless Earthling kids. Now little girl, if you want to tell me something, stop playing and spill the beans. Just try to make it more believable than my son being a psychopathic killer."

She cringed but didn't gaze away. "We drank, that's right. Some of us drank a lot," she stated.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his palm as if preparing to listen to something very boring.

"There was an argument, that's right too. My friend was… well, he was really drunk and he started to blame Trunks for having a party in such a short time after Becky's death. But, after he'd uttered Becky's name, everything went out of control. Trunks went mad," she resumed.

"He was drunk, no big deal," Vegeta grunted with a shrug.

"No big deal? For God's sake, open your eyes, Vegeta!" she exclaimed in shock, "If it hadn't been for Goten, he could have killed my friend. We're lucky your non-psychopathic son contented himself with punching our friend through a windowpane! He was mad. So mad and so scary, nobody dared to explain what happened exactly, some of the guests even ran away."

She put her hand on her forehead in an attempt to contain her emotion as she was remembering the events. "Fuck, there was blood everywhere, you didn't hear my friend screaming from pain," she whispered with a weary voice.

Vegeta remained unruffled. "You're so emotional, Trunks wouldn't…"

"And what about the way he attacked me in his room? He wasn't drunk then," she yelled frantically.

She kept quiet all of a sudden and rubbed her eyes as she was trying to regain her composure. The Saiyan's emotionless face impressed her and made her desperate at the same time. Yet, for a reason she couldn't explain, he was the only one she trusted enough to confess all those things. It was stupid because she didn't know him very well and he was really someone weird. Maybe it was because he was so weird, she'd thought he would handle all this shit with cold blood.

"I came… I wanted to see Trunks to tell him not to go to the hospital because my friend is really scared now and I know Bulma said Trunks would have to visit him every single day to see how he was doing. Then, I tried to speak about Becky. Everyone thinks he got something to do with her death and no one really bought that suicide-thing," she stammered.

"Stop it. I can't believe Trunks killed that girl. You can tell me whatever you want but not that," Vegeta cut off with a stern face.

"I know he didn't but, Vegeta… He's so… I mean, most of the time, he's cold and unaffected by anything, and then he gets mad and violent. There's something wrong with him, I don't know what to do. I have the feeling it's gonna end in a very dirty way."

Vegeta closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he was pondering about what the girl was explaining. He was wondering if her feelings were trustworthy. Her eyes were shining with contained tears and she looked so childish at that moment.

He could remember how Bulla had been afraid about the grinning skull on Trunks's door and she had even convinced herself that the paper skull would lock its empty eyes on her when she would walk by it in the corridor. Krillin's daughter was maybe somehow reacting the same way, the emotion made her picture terrible things where there was nothing to worry about.

When he opened his eyes, she was still sitting opposite of him, staring blankly at her glass of water. "You don't believe me," she stated with a meek voice.

"I'll watch Trunks," he announced.

She looked up at him with hope and had a faint nod. "He needs it," she insisted.

Vegeta had no will to comfort her but it came to his mind that he had no desire to have her babble around about his son, either. Had she talked that way to Bulma, his wife would have turned frantic in a blink.

Things were simpler in the Saiyan's mind. Trunks was a cold nature, just like himself. Although he grieved for his friend, he never expressed his pain and those stupid Earthlings found it suspicious to the point of blaming him for her death. His son was hurt and that was too much for him. Vegeta knew that feeling when pain turned to a mad anger and need for destruction.

Time would likely be enough for Trunks to regain some peace and self control. Hopefully.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	14. Chapter 14

_Haloa. Thank you everybody for all the supportive things._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _beta read this chapter again so be grateful and take a look at his work. It's worth it._

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 **Chapter 14.**

"I've been trying to call you for half an hour, you freaky alien!"

Vegeta turned to the window of the Gravity Room's sparring area in bewilderment. Bulma was standing behind it and yelling over the intercom and she was pissed. _Again_. He landed among the deactivated drones and walked out the secured area to join her with a sigh. "I didn't even know you were back," he replied.

"We've been home for more than an hour already, but Trunks's gone," she announced with an angry face.

 _Shit._ The boy hadn't returned since Krillin's daughter had left and Bulma had found out he was nowhere in the house. Now she would nag at Vegeta to know where her son was and why he went out.

"He went to see Goku's son," Vegeta lied without a second thought.

Bulma raised her eyebrows. "Huh. Wasn't he supposed to be punished or something that kind?" she asked with sarcasm.

"I told him he could go."

"You did? Waow, nice Dad. Your Highness is getting talkative lately."

Bulma had spoken with a playful tone, but knowing her it sounded rather like the calm before the storm. She scratched her head as if mulling over the situation. "Listen, Vegeta… So far you never interfered with the decision I made about the children. Now, I know I asked you to be more involved, but if you want to take it so seriously there are some tips you should know, and the first thing is to never ever contradict each other's decision. You think you can keep that in mind, or is it too much?"

"Bulma, don't…"

"Fuck! What goes on in that head of yours? You… You want to be a Dad? Go and see your six-year-old daughter because she won't be Sugarplum Fairy and it made her so angry that she punched the little girl that was chosen in her place! Just figure this out: she punched a six-year-old little girl with her tiny fist and she almost broke her nose. So, maybe, as 'Dad of the Year' you should take her to get some ice cream and ride the carrousel at the fair now, because she really, really deserves it. Don't you think?"

Bulma was barking with fury. He cringed but didn't protest. He couldn't fight her words, she was the best with words and he never could keep up with her skill in that matter. She paused and rubbed her forehead in a weary gesture. "Whatever, since you seem to like it so much, deal with them. I'll be in my lab."

She slammed the door when she exited the Gravity Room and left him behind. He sighed in relief while considering he had fared pretty well. However, he was wondering where Trunks could be and hoped he wouldn't be long to come back. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and decided that he would still leave him one hour. After that, he would get him.

Too many drama was lurking in this house. Vegeta couldn't take it all. It was way too much for him. So far, the hardest things he had done for his kids had been attending some of Trunks's unexplainable basketball matches or Bulla's boring-to-death ballets. He'd done those things for Bulma in the first place, because it had sounded important to her and because he deeply cared for his own quietness.

It had been enough to please the kids until last month. _You never gave a damn_. That was what Trunks had told him and it had somehow offended his father.

Sure, yes, he'd never given a damn about good grades, birthday parties, basketball matches or that Sugar-stupid Fairy. He couldn't deny it, but that was mostly because he didn't grasp the meaning of all those things. He'd really tried to understand but he had failed. The sole point that made sense in his mind was their safety. He couldn't feel interested beyond that point. Everything else seemed petty. He was aware that Earthlings looked at him as if he was sort of disabled, but they knew nothing from the life he had before. His path had forged him the way he was and now it was too late to change that. Not to mention he couldn't care less about the Eathlings' opinion.

Yet, what Trunks had said had offended him because in fact, Vegeta had tried hard to understand that Earthling way of life. He'd made phenomenal efforts. Man, sitting an entire hour in front of a stage where a dozen of five-year-old girls wearing pink tutus were clumsily waddling, pretending to "dance" to a crap music, while a bunch of morons around him were applauding in awe, that was something he would _never_ imagine some years ago. Bulma knew how hard it had been for him to stay quietly in his chair. Bulma knew it but still, it meant nothing because these kind of things could never be enough to be a real Earthling Dad, the type that would 'give a damn'. Trunks was right, his father had never cared the way he should, but the boy would have to come to terms with that.

Yet, there was something new lately. The kids didn't feel so safe. Bulla had that sleepwalking issue and Trunks had trouble with his self-control, and this could bring serious danger for both of them. That point forced Vegeta to give a damn.

When he opened the nursery's door, Bulla was sitting on the floor in a corner of the room, with her doll pressed tightly against her chest and her eyes glued to the ground. She was still wearing her tutu and had her hair tied in a bun.

He stepped in but she didn't even look up at him. He walked closer and when he was standing a few centimeters from her, her only reaction was to nestle her face in her doll's hair. He crouched down and waited for her to raise her head but she remained silent and motionless.

"Look at me," he groaned. She obliged in a very slow and shy gesture. Her big blue eyes met his with caution.

"What happened?" he asked. He was aware his voice was harsh and he knew the little girl was sensitive to his tone, but he couldn't help it.

"I wasn't chosen to be Sugarplum Fairy," she grumbled.

"I don't talk about that," he cut off, "Why did you punch the girl?"

When he asked that question, his daughter's face changed. She had looked sheepish and frightened so far, but at that very minute, her features turned to anger and annoyance. She pursed her lips and frowned. "I hate her, she's the most stuck-up of all the dancers. It wasn't fair that she got _my_ role."

"You could have hurt her really badly, you realize that?" he resumed with a stern voice.

As a reply, the girl simply diverted her gaze from his eyes, which he knew to mean 'I don't care'. He grasped her chin to force her to look back at him. "It's only a ballet, Bulla. It isn't worth getting in such trouble. You will dance more ballets in your life if you want."

She shrugged and her frown went deeper. "I don't think so because they fired me from the ballet."

As she was speaking, he felt her ki vibrating from restrained anger. That was no good. It was the second time within few weeks that her anger was getting the upper hand on her behavior. She wasn't quick-tempered but she was human, and she could get angry like anybody else and the last time she did it, when he broke her TV, he could remember her ki flaring in a blink.

"Maybe, instead of dancing, you could learn some fighting trick with me, what do you think?"

She flinched and looked at him with suspicious eyes. "Are you gonna make me bleed like you do with Trunks?"

He couldn't help a weak smile and pushed one of her lock away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "No, I won't. I would never do that. Trunks and me have real fights and we get wounded. I just want to show you some tips you should know so that you won't punch anyone when you get angry, unless you decided to."

She looked down and sighed. "I dunno, Dad. I'd rather be Sugarplum Fairy."

"But you can't," he cut off with a dry voice, "You want but you can't right now. Sometime, you have to be patient and work hard to get what you want, because not everything can be bought in stores with your mother's credit card. Meanwhile, I think you need to spend some time with me in the Gravity Room. Are you okay with that?"

She pouted. "You won't hurt me?"

"Bulla, did I ever hurt you? Of course I won't," he exclaimed with growing impatience.

"Then I guess I've nothing better to do during the vacations since I'm no longer part of the ballet," she replied in a sad tone.

He rested his hand on her head and rubbed it. "Good girl."

He stood up and was about to exit the nursery when she called him back. "Hey, Dad! Is my punishment over?"

He froze and thought about Bulma. "Not as long as your mum says it," he answered with caution.

He heard her mumbling some curse in his back when he went out but he didn't pay attention. He felt bad somehow. He never thought that the day would come so soon when he would need to train his carefree angel. Indeed, he'd wanted to believe that it would never happen. Yet he had to face the fact that, like anyone with Saiyan blood, she had to learn how to cope with her might. Even if her strength was much weaker than the boy's, Bulla could still become dangerous if she wasn't able to control it.

When the grey daylight started to darken, Trunks was still missing. Vegeta felt a slight concern creeping in his guts. Not that he feared anything could happen to his son, but the strange idea that Trunks had maybe run away again popped up in his mind. The Saiyan wasn't sure it was the case but if his son had done such crap, Vegeta would be in deep shit because he'd lied to Bulma and when she would find out, she would be more than mad.

As long as she would remain locked in her lab, everything would be under control, but Vegeta had to hurry and get the boy back before his wife had the idea to pick up the phone and call Chichi to ask Trunks to come home. The mere thought of it ran a shiver along his spine. He had gotten enough shit on his plate for today. In his mind he had gotten enough shit for a whole century in fact.

He was relieved to locate Trunks's energy rather easily, somewhere downtown. The ki was much cooler, almost normal now.

Vegeta flew off and followed his senses to a huge park. Since the night was falling and the cold was now close to freezing temperature, the place was completely deserted. Trunks was alone, sitting at a wooden picnic table near a pond's bank. Vegeta landed a few meters from him. In the dim light he couldn't say what his son was staring at. When his father showed up, the boy didn't move, nor did he say anything.

Vegeta walked closer to him and noticed a cigarette stuck between his fingers. Trunks was contemplating the pond. "It's time to go home, now," the Saiyan announced with confidence as if snatching a little child from his swing.

Trunks took a drag and turned his eyes to him. "Is Mum mad?"

Vegeta sighed and crossed his arms. "She doesn't know anything. She believes you're just out with Goten."

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"By the way, Marron said we should keep your crazy acting confidential. For what that's worth," his father added.

Trunks frowned and seemed to think about his father's words. After a while, his lips stretched in a smile. "To your credit, you were always a weird Dad."

Vegeta shrugged and rolled his eyes. He was about to answer that Trunks had always been a weird son too but he kept quiet.

"Do you only remember that place?" Trunks asked.

Vegeta glanced at the setting but nothing came to his mind.

"Of course not. Why would you?" Trunks sighed, "You took me here once as I was a kid. I remember that very well because that day I understood you were a weird Dad and they would be no hope to see you get normal."

His son's speech teased Vegeta's curiosity and he gazed once more at the pond and the trees all around. They were pretty common and again, his brain remained blank. Trunks was watching him struggling with his failing memory. Amusement mingeld with sadness was painted on the teenager's face. He took another drag and only at that moment Vegeta pointed out that the cigarette had an unusual smell.

"Remember that spar I had with Goten and I knocked him out? I mean, I really knocked him out and he was unaware for what seemed a very long time." Trunks resumed.

"You did that more than once," Vegeta retorted. He felt a bit hurt to be unable to remember what Trunks was talking about.

"Right, but this time was the first time, we were young, maybe eight or nine. I had been so scared because I couldn't wake him up. At first I believed he was joking and then I was in a total panic because I was wondering if I had maybe killed him. I believed I had killed him. It lasted five minutes but it made me feel so down."

"Yes, but he wasn't dead, you wouldn't have the might to kill him anyway," Vegeta added as a blurry memory of that event emerged in his mind.

"That day, you took me to this park."Trunks said.

Vegeta smirked. He remembered now, it wasn't a very accurate memory but he remembered a sunny afternoon taking Trunks to the park. He didn't recognize the place, though.

"At first, I thought it was a way to comfort me for the fear I had. You know, it's still a terrible memory to me, even if we both know that it was nothing serious."

Vegeta huffed. "What's the point of fighting if you're afraid of defeating your opponent?"

Trunks glared at him. "Dad, I was a kid and I believed I had accidentally killed my best friend. Can you picture that? Of course, you can't. Whatever. I thought you wanted to comfort me when you brought me to this park and then I realized that it had nothing to do with comfort."

"What comfort? I still don't get it," the Saiyan mumbled.

Trunks chuckled. "Sure. Indeed you took me here because you were proud of me. You did it as a reward. The moment I figured that out, the obviousness struck me that you were nowhere near a normal Dad. I never forgot this lesson but you still surprise me sometimes."

Vegeta sighed in annoyance. "I think we should go back home before your Mum finds out you're still out and calls Goku's vixen."

Trunks laughed and flicked the butt of his cigarette. When he stood up, Vegeta noticed a dark stain on his T-shirt. The Saiyan knew all too well. _Blood._ He stretched his hand out and grabbed the garment. "Where did you get that from?" he blurted out.

"Huh, I sparred with Goten," Trunks answered while prying the shirt out of his father's grip. "Should we go, now? Mum's gonna suspect something."

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	15. Chapter 15

_Hey, hey. Thanks again for your support._

 _ **Warning** : This chapter contains a small lemon. I hadn't planned to have any lemon in this story and I was hesitant about keeping it but here we are. It's nothing outrageous but it changed the story's rate to M nonetheless. So don't like-don't read etc..._

 _And the last but not the least is **Kalebxdd** (aka a good author you should try if not done already) beta read this chapter once more. _

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**Chapter 15.**

Vegeta was numb while staring at his son in disbelief. Trunks was sitting on the ground a few meters from him. The boy had wrapped his arms around his aching head in an attempt to sooth the pain while trying to gather his wits. His father could hear his muffled moans and he knew he'd hurt the kid badly.

The Saiyan looked down at his palms once again. His fingers were stained with tiny droplets of blood. His _own_ blood in fact. His fucking own blood coming from his fucking own lips because Trunks had managed to punch him right there.

Vegeta balled his fist in frustration and wiped his mouth with a harsh gesture. The former Prince wasn't even sure how the boy had made it. He got some very violent feedback from his father, though, much more violent than usual. Despite his achievement, Trunks wasn't at the pinnacle of the fighting art yet, and he'd weakened his defense to focus on his attack, which caused him to receive his opponent's response quite hard and straight in the head. "Fuck, Dad," the boy hissed. "You almost knocked me out."

"Shut up," Vegeta spat while walking to the controls to deactivate the gravity.

With the gravity back to normal, Trunks could struggle to his feet and walk out the secure area. He was still rubbing his head with a wince and his forehead was starting to turn blue, but he was beaming. "You owe me something", he purred with satisfaction.

Vegeta frowned and crossed his arms while leaning his back against the control console. "One question. Nothing more."

Trunks cocked his head and smirked. "What a bad loser, Dad. The deal was three questions."

"Your blow wasn't a real punch, hardly a scratch," Vegeta objected.

Trunks sighed and shrugged in resignation. His Dad was a badass, but still, he'd accepted to play the game and that was a small victory in itself already. "I'll have other opportunities to ask for more anyway," the boy stated.

"Smartass," the Saiyan replied with irritation.

He was still offended that his son could catch him off guard and he was now even more annoyed to have accepted that stupid bet. He felt trapped now.

The only reason he'd yielded to Trunks's offer in the first place had been the great pressure he'd felt on the youngling's nerves the day before. The way Trunks had lost his head with Krillin's daughter had been a disturbing display of that strain, and the only natural way Vegeta knew to relax this kind of pressure was a good fight. Not by dodging blows and giving his opponent a free hand to attack, but by striking as hard and as long as necessary until his mind would forget anything else for a while.

Knowing Trunks well enough, Vegeta understood his son wouldn't do that unless his father accepted to play his moronic game. The Saiyan had never planned to lose though.

Trunks wiped his face with a towel and grabbed a bottle of water. "So, how was your father? You hardly ever talked about him," the boy asked while opening the bottle.

Vegeta sighed and closed his eyes in boredom. He had to mull over the question for a moment. Strange how memories got fuzzy and distorted as time went by.

The fact was that Vegeta had tried his best to forget the dead King of all Saiyans for years. His memories of him had only been the cause of a sour pain, and it had been of no use when the Saiyan's first urge had been to survive. It seemed that his mind had made it in the end, and the only things he could remember from his dead father were dull pictures and unpleasant feelings. Nevertheless, Vegeta still knew that he had been attached to the impressive King. All this was incoherent and bitter to say the least. "Well, I would say that if you had to meet your grandfather today, you would call him an asshole and he would call you a weenie," Vegeta said.

"Uh. Nice. Tell me more, was he as bloody as the legend says? Bloodier than you?" Trunks insisted with a smirk.

Vegeta gritted his teeth at the questions. "It's not like that. What you call bloody was something natural on Vegetasei. We were soldiers, soldiers are not raised to respect life, nor to wonder about philosophical issues, they're raised to kill whenever they're told to or whenever they feel like it, as long as it doesn't bother their leader. And… Well… My father had no true leader."

"It sounds kind of cool, you mean whenever he met a bastard, he could just… Get rid of him without anyone bothering?"

Vegeta looked him straight in the eyes. _Cool?_ Sure enough, his son didn't get a thing. "It's not 'cool', Trunks, believe me. You can find a lot of words to describe it but it's nothing near 'cool', there's always a price to pay even if you got the feeling it's for free. It's like running at full speed without looking around, one day or the other, you hit a wall. And so did my father."

Trunks's smile had faded away. The boy was listening to his father with deep attention. He nodded. "Yes, sure, it's not 'cool', that wasn't what I meant. I was just thinking…" The teenager interrupted himself and kept quiet for a minute as if looking for what he wanted to say. Yet instead of resuming his sentence, he asked with a stern voice. "Did you hit a wall, Dad?"

Vegeta cringed. "That's two questions, boy. Game over," he grumbled.

Trunks gave a sorry sigh but didn't try to ask for more. Vegeta left him behind and headed to the exit of the room.

Outside it had gotten colder to the point that the garden's setting was white from frost. Vegeta enjoyed the freezing temperature on his skin as he walked to the house's backdoor. This sparring session with Trunks had definitely turned into something very unpleasant. It had revived old memories and Vegeta would need some time to bury them back where they belonged.

He bumped into freaky Gloria in the hallway. She was wearing her coat and scarf, ready to go out. "Hi, Mr Briefs, how are you?" she greeted with a cheerful smile. She never got flustered by his stern face and bad mood. "Oh, God, you're bleeding. Are you okay?" she added with concern while pointing at his mouth.

He frowned. This girl had the gift to get on his nerves whatever her intentions were. He wiped his mouth once more with irritation. "Fine."

Bulla's joyful voice echoed from the stairs and the girl jumped the last steps in one go. "Ready!" she exclaimed. She was also dressed up with gloves and a wooly hat. Gloria beamed at her.

"We're going for a little walk. If we're lucky enough, it will start snowing in a while," she explained to Vegeta.

"Snow, snow, snow!" the kid started to cry with a crazy voice while hopping in excitement.

"Calm down, Bulla. Maybe there won't be any snow today. Let's go now," Gloria said in a patient tone.

Vegeta watched them stepping out the house with disbelief. Bulla was just back from the shrink for that 'hypnosis' shit and she didn't seem affected in any way. He wasn't sure if it was normal and he was wondering what it could mean. He had to ask Bulma.

He found her in her office, staring blankly at the stack of papers in front of her. She gave a start when he showed up. He closed the door and leaned his back against it as if Bulma could have tried to escape. He gazed at her and tried to read the answers of his questions on her face. Yet she didn't look sad, nor happy. She looked thoughtful and hesitant.

He waited for her to speak but she kept quiet, looking him back in silence. She just pushed a lock back behind her ear and blinked.

"So?" he blurted out.

"It didn't work," she answered with a flat voice.

She didn't sound affected by that answer and her reply was unusually terse. He walked closer to her chair and rested a hand on the desk. "What happened?"

She gave a slight frown and gazed away from his black orbs. "It didn't work. She talked nonsense about her imaginary world, the Jabberwocky and the Fairies and all that crap again. She became very agitated and even scared, it was pretty stressful to watch, but she didn't say anything useful. The shrink offered one more try but I refused."

She lowered her head and buried her face in her palms in weariness. "I also had a little talk with Gloria but she couldn't help figure out what's going on either. We're back to square one so far."

Vegeta was about to recall he'd foreseen all this but he contained himself. In fact, little by little a more pressing concern was emerging in his mind.

He was standing over Bulma and the only thing he could see now was the nape of her neck. She had her hair tied in scruffy bun and it cleared the view on her neck and the curve of her spine below, running into the small of her back and even further. The sight mesmerized him, he found it so tempting.

They'd argued a lot these days and there was still some tension between them. This kind of atmosphere had always tended to wake up his lust after a few days. Yet in such a situation Bulma wasn't easy to coax. In fact, Bulma was never easy in any way. Truth to be told, Vegeta had never had any liking for easy things and he knew her unamenable spirit had always been what had bonded him so deeply to her. Would he leave her for a single day, he wouldn't be sure to get her back. She'd forgiven him a lot but each time he'd paid dearly for it and nothing was ever granted with her. She could be such a badass. It was all the more delicious to possess her.

He rested a hand on the nape of her neck. She shuddered but didn't move. "I was thinking… I don't know, maybe we should…" she whispered. She interrupted her sentence as he sank his finger in her knotted hair in a slow gesture. He was careful enough not to hurt her as he untied the band that was holding the bun in place. Then he loosened the strands and let go of them along Bulma's spine. He felt her shivering.

He liked the touch of her light fuzzy hair. She arched like a cat when his hand ran until the hair's sprites. Yet, when she turned to him, she had a disapproving look on her face. "Do you really think it's time for that?" she mumbled.

He needed more than that to give up to his growing desire. Moreover, the way her body had reacted to his touch hadn't gone unnoticed to him, and it was displaying something very different from the meaning of her words. He raised an innocent eyebrow, "Time for what?"

He patted her hair all along her back once more and she spinned her chair in order to face him and prevent him from handling her hair further. She rested a hand on his torso as a way to keep him at distance. "Vegeta, we're in trouble," she stated.

Her voice was softer than it would have been if she really wanted to repel him. He repressed a smirk while pointing out that she was not as confident as usual. She looked confused and he loved it when she was confused. Ignoring her attempt to keep him away from her he leaned closer to her.

"Don't. Trunks or Bulla could come in at any moment," she objected with unease. She was almost whispering now and her hand wasn't firm enough to push him back.

"Bulla went for a walk with the freak and Trunks's busy with himself in the medical bay," he replied with a hoarse voice.

The closer his lips came from hers, the further she leaned back in her chair, as a pathetic attempt to dodge his touch. She didn't try to get up nor stop him, though. "But… We should…" she stammered in confusion. The fact that the words couldn't come out of her mouth in the right order at the right time was the first sign that he was about to get what he wanted. He still had to be careful, however. At that point, he knew she was still able to stand up to him.

He nibbled her lips playfully and ended up kissing her deeply. She cringed and broke the kiss. "You're bleeding, where did you get that from?" she whispered in concern.

He leaned back to her and resumed the kiss with eagerness. He had no desire to talk about that again and neither did he want her to be diverted and have time to change her mind. Moreover, the question had hardened his general frustration. He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her in one go.

She tried to resist the movement but she failed at grabbing her chair's backrest, so she merely clutched herself at his neck. With a wide arm gesture, he dropped all the papers cluttering up the desk to the floor and sat her on the cleared place. That time, she broke the kiss with an annoyed face. "Gosh… Could you sometimes care for… Hey!" She interrupted herself when he slipped his hands under her sweater and ran them on her skin along her back again, rolling up the garment in the process.

She arched the very same way she'd done the first time and he enjoyed the sight of her naked breast rising in the movement. It was exactly what he needed. He glanced at her with a smirk. "What's that? Going to the shrink without a bra on?" he groaned.

Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned to a bright pink. She was back to confusion. "How dare you? You dirty pervert," she mumbled with an awkward voice.

He didn't leave her more time for argument and grabbed her hips to pull her butt closer to the desk's edge. He started to unbutton her pants with one hand while resuming the kiss. Her tongue's reply was shy but she was still there so far, she hadn't even tried to cover herself. He ran his free hand from her abdomen up to her breasts. Her skin was surprisingly warm despite her goosebumps.

At last, she started to give up her reserve. She completely got rid of her sweater and lifted her body to allow him to strip her pants off when he was done with the buttons. He was jubilant as he contemplated her naked body while dropping the garment on the floor. He needed it.

She had her hands resting behind her and was leaning on them with thighs spread, gazing back at him with a challenging look. "It's cold here," she whispered. He got the hint and came back to her. He parted her legs a little more in order to stand between them and ran his tongue down her neck while rubbing his hard groin against her. She wrapped her thighs around his hips in an instinctive gesture and rocked her pelvis to keep up with his movement.

She gave a weak smile when she found out how far his arousal already was. The touch of her warm soft skin was driving him crazy, he couldn't get enough of her scent and taste. She was already panting from his attention, but when she blurted an unwilling gasp, he could no longer take it. He laid her down on the desk while pulling down his trousers and boxers.

She tried to sit up but he prevented her from doing so by holding back her shoulder. She had a grunt of protestation but he ignored it and pulled her hips closer to him with his free hand in a very rude manner. "Vegeta! Freaky alien! You…" she hissed. She never ended her complaint though. He'd entered her without waiting one more second and she could hardly repress a moan while arching in surprise and unexpected pleasure.

Being inside her at last made his hunger even more pressing and he couldn't help but keeping a greedy pace. Yet, the sounds coming from Bulma's mouth, despite her pathetic efforts to keep quiet, let him know it was fine with her. He helped her lift herself in order to draw her closer to him. That way he could feel her warm skin against his and he could go deeper inside. She was also able to take part in the movement and he found out she was as eager as him in the end. Although she'd been reluctant in the first place, she was going wild now and it left him free hand to yield to his own need.

In the distance, they heard a muffled voice yelling "We're back! It's snowing, guys!" Fucking freaky babysitter. He tried to ignore her voice and thrusted even harder.

Bulma bit his shoulder while blurting out a weak whimper. He felt her body clenching tightly around him and he was caught off guard by his own orgasm. His last movements had the desk toppling over and Vegeta had just enough time to catch Bulma to prevent her from falling down with it. He stepped back and bumped the chair behind him. He fell on it and found himself sitting with Bulma still on him. He closed his eyes to enjoy what was still left to enjoy.

"I hate that life," he grunted when he'd gathered his wits. Bulma had nestled her face against his collarbone and she chuckled.

She raised her head and looked at him, unable to stop a laugh. "You were the one who swore we wouldn't be disturbed," she gasped while rubbing her eyes full of tears.

"Mummy! It's snowing! Let's go make a snowman! Mummy!" Bulla's voice echoed in the distance.

"Go ahead, honey! I'll be right there! I got some work to finish but it won't be long!" Bulma yelled back.

Both parents listened to the house's sound and sighed in relief when they heard the front door slamming and the house going back to silence. Bulma was still sitting on Vegeta's lap.

She stood up and started to gather her garments on the floor. The room was a mess now, with all the papers scattered on the floor and the desk knocked over. He enjoyed the sight of her naked body roaming through that battlefield searching for a complete outfit.

"You know, I was thinking about something before you sort of raped me," she resumed snatching him out of his contemplation. He flinched and focused on her face.

"Since we have this new year's party next month, I wanted to talk to Baba about Bulla," she announced.

"Baba? What's that again?" he asked with suspicion.

"Master Roshi's sister. She's a powerful medium, you know."

He blinked in bewilderment.

"Short old woman with pinkish hair and black hat," Bulma added.

He shrugged. He remembered who she was talking about, that little troll was afraid of everything. It couldn't be worst than a shrink. Besides, it was free.

"I'll have to call Master Roshi to make sure she will come, she doesn't like to go out very much. Who knows? She could help us."

Sure. Magic was still a better explanation than insanity.

"Meanwhile," Bulma resumed while slipping her trousers on, "I'll be absent for a few days. Professional trip. I've delayed it as much as I could but I have to go now. I asked Gloria to spend the nights here with Bulla while I'm gone, she'll take good care of the princess."

He cringed. Bulma was standing still in front of him, with only her unbuttoned jeans on, watching his feedback to her words. How could such a sexy sight give such bad news? He merely gave an annoyed sigh.

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	16. Chapter 16

_Hallo. Thanks once again for all your support._

 _Thanks to **Kalebxdd** for beta reading this chapter again. Thanks to him also to give us such incredible story like White Lines._

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 **Chapitre 16.**

Vegeta opened his eyes slowly and blinked. He listened to the sounds around him for a while. Hardly any. Of course. Why would there be anything to worry about? Freaky Gloria was sleeping in the nursery and Bulma had set alarms everywhere in Bulla's room, including on the brand new window _._ Even Trunks was home tonight. Yet, Vegeta couldn't help but to wake up every single hour. He looked at the clock. 2.00 a.m.

Bulma had been gone for three days already and he still felt tense about the change it implied in the house. Bulma was not here and Gloria seemed to be everywhere.

At the beginning, he'd decided to avoid the babysitter as much as possible and to pretend everything was normal, but he hadn't been able to stick to his resolution because he'd realized he missed Bulla in his sight. This feeling had been quite a surprise to him but he had to admit that some things had changed lately. A feeling of insecurity was haunting his mind, which lead him to trust no one else than himself to watch his daughter, but it wasn't the only point. He'd become aware that he needed to see her behaving like the thoughtless little girl she'd always been. It was somehow a necessary comfort. Bulla could get on his nerves sometimes, but he liked it when she was a _normal_ kid. With no need for a shrink, nor for an old toothless witch, a kid that would have no reason to be scared.

He'd taken her in the Gravity Room a few times. He was confused about her, to say the least. She was nothing like her brother or Goku's sons. She was unable to focus her ki for long and she didn't see the point in gathering and using the great energy inside her.

She could fly a bit by now but it was mainly because she'd realized that she could pretend to be a Fairy by doing so. It had been the only motivation that drove her to apply the basic rules of flying.

Most of all, she always feared to get hurt and she'd whined a lot in the beginning. Rather strangely, Vegeta had a hard time gaining her trust. Even now, she wasn't fully confident and got panic stricken at the smallest spike in his aura, as if he could lose his self control and wound her unintentionally.

So far, her spirit had been so reluctant and so suspicious about fighting or ki that he hadn't been able to teach her the basis of what he'd intended to teach her. It left him even more puzzled about the way she'd been able to crush a window, fly off and suppress her ki the night she sleepwalked. She had no gift and no will for those things.

As he was laying still in his bed and mulling over the best way to coax his daughter, he heard the muffled sound of steps in the corridor. He focused for a while. Trunks was in his room, very likely asleep. Nothing surprising, he'd been out three nights in a row, looking like a mop during the sparring sessions.

He could also locate Bulla's slight ki in her room.

The sound of the steps faded as they were going away from Vegeta's room and down the stairs. Gloria had to be thirsty, or she was busy with whatever she liked to call her nightlife. The best for him was to ignore her presence as much as possible.

He couldn't go back to sleep though, he wished Bulma would be by his side. Her ability to sleep a whole night in one go had always been helpful for his own rest.

When he heard Gloria coming back upstairs, he'd almost forgotten her already. He had somehow lost track of time and he had the feeling that it had been hours since she went out of the nursery. She walked along the corridor and then stopped. There was a strange noise, a quite insignificant 'click'. Was it a 'click' in fact? He wasn't even sure he heard anything. Then, her step kept going in a slow regular pace.

He sat up. Something was bothering him. What? What could it be? Both kids were asleep, Gloria went downstairs, very likely in order to drink something. Maybe, she was sick. Maybe she went out to call some freaky friend of hers in the middle of the night. 'Click'

He turned his head to the door. All of a sudden, he knew what was wrong. She had walked past the nursery's door and was heading for the end of the corridor where Trunks's room was. He jumped out of bed but had a second thought before opening his door. He felt awkward.

What was the point for nymphomaniac Gloria to sneak into Trunks's room in the middle of the night? The answer was obvious and he felt nauseated. How did she dare? He'd fire her, no matter what Bulma's objection would be. Yet, considering that she wouldn't be able to rape his son, the Saiyan was hesitant to step in whatever was about to happen now.

He opened his door an inch to glance in the corridor just in time to see Gloria's silhouette entering Trunks's room. "Fuck".

However, his attention was caught by the fact that she didn't close the door. What the hell did this floozy have in mind? He walked out his room and up to the grinning skull with caution.

He jumped when a sudden deafening series of bangs echoed, followed by his son's shout. He dashed into Trunks's room and froze an instant as he found out Gloria standing in front of the teenager's bed and pointing a gun on it. She had missed her target. Trunks had fallen from the bed and was half sitting, half laying on the floor, watching the babysitter with bewilderment, his mouth ajar in stupor.

Vegeta was so stunned that the idea to take the gun away didn't even cross his mind. He recognized Bulma's weapon, though, the one she used to hide in her office. Gloria was inexpressive when she turned to the Saiyan, her hazel eyes were just darker than usual.

He thought she was going to point the gun on him but instead she held it out to him.

"What the fuck… Trunks? Are you alright?" he mumbled while ignoring her offer.

Trunks gave him a faint nod but his features were still frozen in astonishment. At that moment, the sonorous ring from Bulla's alarm started to yell through house. Bulla had exited her room and was running to Trunks's room, crying. "Daddy! Trunks! Where are you?"

Vegeta took the gun Gloria was still handing to him and tried to hide it from the child's sight. "Everything's fine, Bulla. Don't worry," the Saiyan replied when the girl entered her brother's room.

Bulla looked at them with fear. She stared at them one by one, at her father then at Trunks and at Gloria. "I heard bangers," she whined.

Gloria gave her a soft smile. "I failed," she told the little girl.

Bulla's eyes widened "What? What are you talking about? What did you do?" the girl exclaimed with distraught.

"I'd like to know it as well," Trunks hissed while trying to get on his feet.

Blood was dripping from his shoulder and along his arm. At this sight Bulla went frantic and started to scream. "Trunks! You're bleeding! What did she do? What did she do to you?"

The girl jumped on his older brother with a whimper and hugged him. "Don't die, don't die," she sobbed.

"It's okay, Bulla. I'm not gonna die, it's just a scratch," he replied while patting her head in a gentle gesture. The glare he was giving to the babysitter was in stark contrast with the softness of his voice.

Vegeta could feel his anger and he himself was very tempted to crush Gloria's skull at once. The only thing that contained both Saiyans' instincts was Bulla. She was so shocked that murdering her beloved babysitter right now wouldn't be the best way to bring her comfort.

Gloria was standing next to Vegeta, watching the little girl with tenderness. She was still and calm as if attending a friendly meeting. Vegeta grabbed her collar and pulled her out of the room, leaving Trunks to take care of his sister.

The Saiyan dragged the girl downstair forcefully. She stumbled and lost her balance on the last few steps. Vegeta was still holding the collar of her shirt and the fabric got ripped in the process. Gloria fell hard on her knees and gave a faint whimper. He grasped her arm and put her back on her feet with brutality.

He craved to smash her into a wall, to blow her head off with the very same gun she'd tried to use on _his_ son, in _his_ house, while he _himself,_ Vegeta,was just in the room. He'd always thought that he hated her but now he realized it had been a slight contempt so far. Now he felt the real hatred burning in his guts.

He pushed her forward to the living room and closed the door. He paused for a minute. He could hear his heart beating in his ears but he had to soothe his fury. Just a bit. Just enough so that he wouldn't beat her to a pulp in a blink.

He watched her. She was standing still in the middle of the lounge, rubbing her aching arm.

"Why?" he spat. He wasn't even able to build a complete sentence, his mind was too overwhelmed by powerful emotions.

She looked at him with blank eyes. "It had to be done, it was the only way," she stuttered with a weak voice.

"What kind of crap answer is that?" he yelled. "You wanted to kill my son, what the fuck did you have in mind, freaky slut?"

She hardly blinked at his aggressive, infuriated tone. She turned her eyes to the window and seemed to get lost in the sight of the freezing night outside. Her unaffected reaction was about to drive him crazy and he grabbed her shoulders to shake her and get her attention back on him.

"Answer my question, why did you attack my son, my _sleeping_ son, leaving him few chances to escape?"

She frowned at his assault but didn't try to release herself. Nor did she say anything. He forced himself to let go of her. He could kill her if he wasn't careful enough but he craved for answers. Yet he was so angry, it was too hard to measure out his strength. He decided to use another means. Much more of an Earthling means. He still had the gun in his hand and pointed it on her. "Tell me," he ordered.

She gazed at him with empty eyes. "There's no ammo left, I emptied the magazine while shooting at Trunks," she declared with a calm voice.

She didn't sound afraid, nor guilty. Once again, she locked her eyes on the window as if ignoring him. That was too much, he jumped on her and hit her head with the gun's butt.

She collapsed at once and there was a loud thud when she hit the ground. He contemplated her inert body with a gnawing frustration. A trickle of blood coming from her head started to spread on Bulma's carpet. He wondered if he had killed her, he had tried no to but he wasn't really sure. Truth to be told, it didn't matter anymore to him.

He threw the gun on the ground and walked out the room without checking her pulse. The children were in the medical bay. Trunks was struggling to clean his wound on his upper arm while Bulla was sitting next to him and watching his every move with anguish. She still had tears on her cheeks and winced in pain as if she was the one injured.

"How does it look like?" Vegeta asked.

"I need stitches. That bitch caught me off guard, I'm lucky to be quick," Trunks groaned with bad mood.

"I'll do it. Bulla, move over," Vegeta replied.

"Where is she?" Trunks asked his father with a stern look meaning 'How is she?', a question he wouldn't ask near Bulla's ears.

"In the lounge. She's quiet for now."

"Do you mean so quiet it isn't worth to call the police by now?"

"No idea," Vegeta grunted while grasping a needle and some thread.

"Are you going to sew his skin?" Bulla exclaimed in shock, "I don't wanna see that, I'd better go see Gloria."

"Stay here," Vegeta ordered with a harsh tone causing the girl to start. "Just cover your eyes. From now on, I want you to stay by my side and do what I say. Understood?"

She nodded and did as she was told.

As he was stitching up his son, the Saiyan thought back at freaky Gloria. He wondered what he would do if she was dead. The only thing bothering him now was that, for sure, Bulma was going to be mad.

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	17. Chapter 17

_Hello. Thanks to all of you for still being there and supportive. I'm almost done writing the story so I can say there will still be 4 chapters and an epilogue, I promise everything might make sense in the end._

 _ **Kalebxdd** beta read this chapter and might beta read til the end. All this without charging me, so I have to thank him again for his patience and work. _

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**Chapter 17.**

Gloria wasn't dead and Vegeta and Trunks had decided to call the police. Both of them had been reluctant to do so. Truth to be told, if it hadn't been for Bulla witnessing everything, they would certainly have done things otherwise. Yet, without doubt, the first thing the little girl would do when her mother got back was tell her the whole story. She was also able to talk about it at school. She wasn't trustworthy enough to keep quiet.

Therefore, they had no other choice but to have the police nosing around, asking them stupid questions and turning the house upside down. The cops had been a bit stunned that Gloria hadn't been able to wound Trunks more than a mere scratch but they didn't focus on that detail further.

In the end, they had questioned the babysitter when she'd woken up. First, she'd pretended she remembered nothing, second she'd started talking crazy. Finally, they just locked her somewhere with other freaky people. How convenient. How Earthling. Vegeta went mad when Bulma told him. He'd had a hard time sparing her life and he'd done it only in the hope of getting answers she would never give. Or, at least, she would never give them by using the soft Earthling way to question her. There were other ways though. Vegeta still knew some of them somewhere in the mud of his darkest memories.

By sheer luck, he'd heard Bulma mentioning the name of the place where they had sent Gloria while talking to the police on the phone. _Elijah's home_. Vegeta hadn't really planned to hear that name but it was now engraved in his brain and he couldn't get rid of it.

 _Elijah's home._ The temptation to go there was growing in his mind as Gloria's words keep surging back in his mind. " _I failed. It had to be done, it was the only way."_ What was she talking about then? Was it only nonsense she had said because she was nut? Why did she seem to be talking to Bulla when she said she failed? Did Bulla somehow have something to do with her actions? It was utterly impossible. The little girl would never do any harm to her brother. She would never do any harm to anyone.

Each time he tried to find answers, Vegeta found himself on a dead end, and each time the name of _Elijah's Home_ emerged in his brain like a key. Yet he somehow dreaded to yield to his burning desire to confront Gloria. A voice in his mind was struggling with the idea of going to that 'Elijah's Home', as if something terrible would await him there. He'd listened to that voice so far but he wasn't sure he would be able to keep going on that way very long. He hadn't prevented himself from spotting the place on a map already.

Now, having no answer at all about Gloria's reasons, he couldn't help but imagine that she could have lashed at Bulla. For sure, the little girl wouldn't have been as quick as her brother to dodge the bullets and Vegeta decided it was time for her daughter to move up her training to the next level.

Bulla had been deeply disturbed by her brother's attack. She was confused and torn between the liking she had for Gloria and the fear she still felt about Trunks. Willing to comfort her daughter, Bulma had told her that Gloria would never come back again but then, Bulla had started to cry telling that she missed her too much. On the other hand, the little girl was clinging to her brother as if his life was still endangered. She followed him everywhere in the house and she insisted on sleeping with him at night. Trunks had made the mistake of accepting for a night and after that, the boy had a hard time to have his sister go back to her own bed, even with Bulma's help.

Bulla needed clearly to become hardened and tougher. His father had to take care of that.

"Why don't you join me?" he asked with some impatience.

He was floating above the little girl in the Gravity Room. Bulla was standing motionless in the middle of the sparring area, watching up at him with a frown.

"I don't want to fly anymore," she mumbled.

Vegeta repressed an annoyed sigh. "Why? Last time, you said it was like playing Fairy, you liked it."

"I don't care about playing Fairy anymore. I don't want to fly."

"Why not? It's easy, you can't get hurt. Join me now." His father insisted.

She crossed her arms and lowered her head in a stubborn attitude. He felt a growing irritation in his guts and tried his best to hide it. He landed next to the kid. "Bulla, what's going on? We'll never make it if you're fussy every time I try to teach you something."

"I don't want you to teach me anything about 'that'. It was your idea in the first place but I don't like it."

He took a deep breath in order to clear his mind. He felt like shaking her to have her give into his will but he knew it would be of no use. He had to find something else. How was it? 'The talking solution'.

He crouched down to her level and met her eyes. He tried to make his voice sound as patient as possible. "Last time we did a session together you managed to fly and you were even pretty fast. Why don't you want to do it again?"

"I don't want to use that energy inside me, I'd better leave it alone."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why? This energy inside you exists whether you use it or ignore it and it can become high anytime. If you can't control it, it can be dangerous, you know. We already talked about that."

She turned her head to break their visual contact and to have him understand that his argument didn't change her mind. Vegeta felt his irritation slowly gnawing at his calmness.

"Bulla, do you know the only reason why Trunks escaped Gloria's fire? It's only because he can control his energy. It makes him very sensitive and very fast, faster than bullets. If he hadn't been able to do it, he would be dead. Would you like him to be dead? Would you like to die yourself if anyone attacked you? "

The little girl had turned her gaze back to his father as soon as he'd mentioned Trunks. She was staring at him with a deep frown expressing as much horror as disbelief.

"This energy could save your life and even the life of people you love," he added as he noticed Bulla was reacting to his speech.

"Dad, the energy will never save anyone because the Jabberwocky likes energy. Just like how energy likes to find the Jabberwocky," she blurted out.

Vegeta rubbed his forehead and remained still for a while. That Jabberwocky again. He had to be smart from now on. "Bulla, tell me, I know you're scared of that thing but have you ever pictured you could beat him once and for all? That is to say, if you can control enough your energy,of course."

The little girl blinked in confusion and the Saiyan was satisfied to understand she'd never thought about that possibility. "Dad, the Jabberwocky is my friend in the first place, I like him most of the time and I don't want to fight him. He's only dangerous when he's angry. When he's angry, he's able to kill people. That is when he scares me. Anyway, he would be much too strong, even if I trained for years."

Vegeta was listening to his daughter's explanation with care. Her fantasy seemed to follow some sort of logic after all, and it was an interesting thing to know since it was useless to fight her faith.

"So, you said the energy attracts the Jabberwocky?" he resumed with a very calm voice.

"Well, at least, my energy does."

"That's why you don't want to use it."

She nodded. He smiled at her and rubbed her head. "Fine… Wait a moment."

He walked to a control panel and pressed some buttons before coming back near his daughter. She was looking at him with innocence. "We're going to solve that problem in a minute, Bulla."

She frowned with concern and jumped when a humming echoed in the room. The lights went dimer little by little. Vegeta was staring at her. Her features turned to panic when she saw the doors of the sparring area getting locked with a thug. "What are you doing, Dad?" she stammered.

"Don't worry, Princess, everything's gonna be fine. I'll stay by your side." He replied. He had a soothing tone but it sounded rather frightening to the little girl and she began to whine. "Dad, I want out now."

All of a sudden, she fell on her knees with a gasp. She was short of breath already. He crouched down next to her. "Breathe. Don't panic. Just breathe and trust me. The gravity is going to get higher from now on, but you can do it."

"Gravity? What's gravity, Dad?"

Her voice had become barely audible and her questioning eyes were locked on him. Somewhere deep in his mind, he felt bad for doing this to her but he had to do it. When she fell flat her face down on the floor, he held her head in order to keep her safe from harm. He heard her gasping getting louder.

"Bulla, for God's sake, breathe. Stop getting frantic and calm down. You just need to breathe. You can do it if you use your ki," he hissed.

She was suffocating and for an instant, he doubted if she could really do it. He'd set the gravity to level 5. He glanced at the control panel and found out they were only at level 3. "Bulla, god dammit, breathe!" he yelled in frustration.

At last, he could feel her ki growing. Relief washed over him. Although the gravity level was still getting higher, she could breathe more easily. He had a small smirk. "Now, Princess, get up," he ordered.

She tried to lift a hand but she could hardly move it. "Too… heavy," she murmured.

He stood up and looked down at her little body almost crushed on the ground. "It's not heavy, use your _ki_."

She raised her eyes to him. He could read her disbelief. "Why?" she asked.

"You said your energy was attracting the Jabberwocky, right? Well, I'm calling him. Let's see if he will show up."

She frowned and closed her little fist in anger. "Are you using me?" she asked in disgust.

"It's exactly what I'm doing. I want to see him now, I mean, if he exists of course. Should he come, you have nothing to fear since I'm here with you. Now get up."

"I can't!" she shouted. Fury was vibrating in her voice. "I can't believe what you're doing to me! I hate you! You swore you wouldn't hurt me! I'll tell Mum!"

She no longer had trouble breathing and was yelling now. She was enraged and her ki was flaring up exactly the way Vegeta wanted it to. She punched the floor in frustration.

"Of course, you can get up. You just don't want to. Stop whining like a baby and do it. If you don't, I'll just walk out and leave you here alone as long as necessary."

She raised her head with an obvious pain. "You wouldn't do such a thing, would you? If you do, I'll tell Mum." she uttered.

"Wanna bet?"

She was glaring at him with such ferocity that he had the feeling she was about to attack him. Instead of that, she blurted a terrible infuriated scream. "Muuumm!"

He cringed at the shrill sound but remained very calm. "She can't hear you, Baby Bulla. Just keep on crying, I'll be back in an hour."

"Don't you call me a baby!" she cried.

He turned his back on her and started to step toward the room's exit. He was still paying great attention to her ki in the process and felt it higher than ever.

"Dad! Don't! Dad!" she called in panic.

When he walked closer to the door, he sensed her energy flying off. Her voice became lower all of a sudden. "Dad," she whispered, out of breathe. When he turned back to her, she was on all fours and staring at him with pleading eyes full of tears.

"Here we go, just a little more effort and you'll be on your feet, honey. Still no Jabberwocky in sight though. Would that mean he doesn't exist?" he hissed with a smirk.

He heard a muffled noise against the window of the sparring area and peered at it. Trunks was knocking at it with a panic stricken face. The boy grabbed the intercom. "Dad? What the hell are you doing? Are you mad?" Trunks asked with bewilderment.

"Mind your own business, brat." Vegeta retorted.

Now Bulla was crying more frankly as a call for help to her brother. Trunks closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Trunks! Get out of here!" Vegeta ordered.

Yet, the Saiyan could already feel the Gravity going down. "Stop that!" he yelled to his son.

Trunks didn't listen to him and Vegeta knew it was too late anyway. As long as he was alone with his daughter he could have his way but now with Trunks being there, Bulma wouldn't be long to step in and he wouldn't be able to control Bulla as much as he needed. He crossed his arms and stayed still when Trunks entered the secured area.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing with her?" his son mumbled.

"It was between her and me. None of your concern."

"Mum's gonna kill you," the boy spat.

Trunks walked to his sister still sitting on the floor and sobbing loudly. He whispered some comforting words to her and took her in his arms to carry her out of the room. She glared at her father while passing by him, her _ki_ still vibrating from fear and anger.

Vegeta had gritted teeth. He was almost there. She was almost on her feet when Trunks had shown up and she'd mastered her _ki_ pretty well so far. She could do much better than that, not to mention, he would have been able to demonstrate her Jabberwocky was only in her head. Too bad.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	18. Chapter 18

_Hi there, thanks for your support and reviews. Some of you dropped interesting ideas._

 _One more time. **Kalebxdd** beta read the chapter. Check his work. _

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**Chapter 18.**

Sometimes, Vegeta felt trapped in his Earthling life. That feeling didn't surge very often in his mind but when it hooked his heart, it was overwhelming. He'd never planned such an existence, it was miles away from the dreams he had. Yet, when he'd landed on Earth, all his certainties had been shattered little by little. First of all, his absolute conviction to be the all-mighty Prince of all Saiyans still left in the universe had been crushed in blood and humiliation. He remembered that as a terrible lesson, and still, it hadn't been the biggest one he learned here.

He had to admit his arrival on this insignificant blue Planet had opened unexpected doors to unsuspected paths, and at some point he'd found himself exploring them. He'd made an unaware choice that had led him to settle down here, to somehow forge bonds with people here and even to start a family. Starting a family was maybe the craziest thing he'd done. He'd never considered having children before, it had always sounded like a heresy for the killer he'd been and a piece of nonsense for one of the last beings of an extinguished race. Life was ironical.

Peace, family, human interaction, home… All those things seemed to be pretty ordinary for most of the people around him, even to Goku, but it had never been anything natural to Vegeta, he had to learn and to give up to a part of his former self to make it. He'd done all this willingly and he never truly regretted it but sometimes… Sometimes, he happened to question his old choices. His mind got wrapped in some nostalgia for his lonely, ruthless life when tomorrow was never granted and when he only had to run fast without looking behind. Then, with that bitter feeling came the growing oppression of all the concessions his actual Earthling life demanded. In those moments, his mood darkened and it was better not to stand in his way.

Now that Bulma had been yelling continuously for a good half an hour, blaming him for endangering their daughter and forbidding him any access to his bathroom while he was craving for a boiling-hot shower, this feeling of being trapped started to clutch his guts.

"Man, she's six years old, you can't force her. She's been through a lot lately, how could you hurt her more in that goddamn Gravity Room? What are you looking for? Turning her into some kind of warrior? What a joke! I don't know what's wrong with you but I swear…"

Bulma couldn't speak further as he punched the wall behind her in a loud crash, his arm brushing her head in the process. She kept quiet instantly, her mouth ajar in astonishment. She was standing still, facing him with her wide eyes gazing at him.

"Shut up," he breathed.

He withdrew his fist from the hole he'd made in the wall and he breathed deeply as if his lungs needed some air after an intense effort. He dusted the plaster still sticking to his hand. "Just shut up," he repeated with a very calm voice. Bulma was so stunned that she wasn't able to utter a single word and could only watch him entering the bathroom.

When he felt the hot steaming water on his skin, it was a relief. He realized how tense all his muscles were and the shower was helping them to relax a bit. The shower and also the loneliness. He'd locked the door although he knew Bulma wouldn't try to come in. He'd done it as a warning sign, as a necessary ritual to be sure everyone got the message he needed to be left alone. He needed Bulma away from him. He needed everybody away from him. He needed the whole world to disappear.

The bitter feeling of failure that had triggered his weariness was still lurking in his mind. Failed. He failed to protect his daughter, to make her stronger, to have her mentally and physically perfect just like he figured she should be. He failed at detecting danger in his own house. He failed at understanding his son. Even Bulma seemed to be against him and wouldn't trust him, as if he was able to do any harm to Bulla, as if he was nothing else than a barbaric savage. He was aware that, since that day, when Bulla had been trying to slash her arm, his wife and him had indeed lived behind closed doors, and teaming up 24 hours a day to face the situation wasn't something easy. He'd never been very good at teaming up anyway, he'd never been meant for that.

He closed his eyes and imagined how it would feel like to leave them all behind. Using Bulma's space pod and flying off to anywhere far away with no other company than the dark emptiness of space, no other sound than the soothing humming of the spaceship and most of all, no other will than his own. No need to worry if his decision were good or bad, his simple instincts would do the trick.

He spent some time picturing the amazing sights other planets had to offer, he could still remember some of them. At this very instant, he craved to go back to that wandering life.

He sighed and opened his eyes, ignoring the water dripping from his eyelids. He was well aware that his actual feelings were a delusion, though. Failure wasn't an option and he would never find any peace while carrying the weight of it. Would he ever decide to leave his family, he would never do it as a way to escape anything. He'd faced many terrible foes and he never flinched, he never ran away in front of anyone. A handful of emotional Earthlings wouldn't be enough to ever change that.

He turned off the tap and got dressed. When he walked back into his room, Bulma was gone and everything was quiet. The only sign of their argument was the hole in the wall.

He was relieved to find the house empty. He headed to the kitchen and got some food. He wouldn't leave Earth but he was still mulling over the opportunity to take a little trip for a few days. He still needed fresh air. Yet, leaving Bulma alone with Bulla wasn't an idea he liked. The kid hadn't had another sleepwalking crisis for a while now, but she wasn't officially cured and the memory of her blood on the kitchen's floor was still haunting him. Had Trunks been trustworthy, Vegeta wouldn't have any second thought about leaving the house. Maybe he should try some harsh training instead. If it wasn't enough, he would take his stuff to the outhouse and spend some time there, away from everyone.

Harsh training was a first step. He headed to the Gravity Room with his sandwich and beer still in his hand. When he entered the control room, he was surprised to find out Trunks was there, sitting on the floor and reading a book. The teenager raised his head to his father and smiled.

"I knew you'd come back here, Mum and Bulla left to see Grandpa and Grandma for the rest of the day," the boy announced.

Vegeta frowned. "And what about you?"

Trunks rested his book on the floor and stood up. "What about a real fight with a real opponent?" he offered.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Since Gloria had shot him, Bulma had given back God status to her beloved son. There was no longer such a thing as punishment or ban. Furthermore, everything his Majesty would wish would be granted in a blink. _Stupid_. Yet, it meant, Trunks didn't have to train with Vegeta anymore if he had no desire to. It seemed that the kid was in the mood for a spar however. Perfect, so was his father.

"You're too cocky, as usual," Vegeta scolded.

"Maybe. As usual, we're playing the same game."

Vegeta shrugged and walked to the sparring area, while Trunks set the gravity control on.

Since the first time, Trunks had never won again at the questioning game. The Saiyan had no doubt his son would fail once more at punching him. Besides, the brat's stitches hadn't completely healed up for the moment.

From the very first move however, Vegeta understood the boy's wound wouldn't make a difference. The kid had even increased his speed since the last time they sparred. Furthermore, his ki was more vivid than ever, something was different. How could it be possible? Would that come from his training with Goku's son?

Vegeta was caught off guard in the first minutes and he had to adjust himself. He calculated straight away that it would be risky to have a long-lasting spar because Trunks might adapt to the gravity level while Vegeta was very accustomed to it. It would mean that the Saiyan would lose one of his advantage as time would go by, and if Trunks appeared to be tough enough to keep his ki very high for a long time, then he would become dreadful at that stupid punching game.

Yet, Vegeta knew Trunks's exact weakness. Excitement. Trunks was gifted with an ever-growing resource of ki, but too much adrenaline in one go was something tricky. His brain didn't keep up with such a pace and his train of thoughts was soon off tracks and overwhelmed by his greed for action. The boy needed to work on his ability to focus. That way, his desire to attack often overshadowed the necessary attentiveness to keep himself out of reach.

When it came to fighting him, the cunning was pretty much the same. Allowing Trunks to come close enough and using his hope to land a successful hit to lower his defense. After that, the right blow at the right place would do the trick. It should be enough to knock him down quickly.

As soon as Vegeta felt his son's fist brushing his cheek, he spotted the boy's unprotected chest in a blink. He punched it with full strength and without a second thought. The Saiyan's mind went blank when he found out he'd missed his strike. His first reflex was to get away from his opponent's energy but strangely, it was already too late. He felt a hard kick on his shoulder. He didn't take it head on but still, it was enough to launch him down to the floor. At the last minute, he managed a landing on his feet but he almost lost his balance.

Straight away, his mind ignored the pain and focused on Trunks's _ki_ in order to locate him. His son was coming closer but his energy wasn't threatening anymore and Vegeta understood he had no intention to attack further. The Saiyan was so numb, he didn't even think about giving Trunks the hard response his offense deserved.

"Never let your urge to strike prevail over your need to protect yourself. Did I learn well?" the teenager uttered with a smirk while joining his father. The youngling was sweating and out of breath, one of his cheeks was swollen and blue and his stitches were bleeding under his T-shirt. He looked jubilant nevertheless.

"Shut up," his father mumbled.

Trunks gave a mischievous laugh. Vegeta had a hard time to hide his disbelief. The way he'd underestimated his son's level was unforgivable and unexplainable. Trunks had never been _so_ good. The kid looked completely unaware of his father's bewilderment, though.

"I won't argue with you Dad, but you have to answer one of my question, now," Trunks resumed.

Vegeta sighed and crossed his arms in resignation. Just his luck, the Saiyan was downright in no mood for a little father-son chat, right now. "What is it about, this time?"

Trunks cocked his head, still wearing a faint smile. "Tell me the first time you killed someone."

"I don't remember," Vegeta answered on the go. It was a lie and he didn't even care to hide it. He was wondering why his son craved so much to hear about memories that were so hard to dig up.

Trunks crossed his arms as well, mimicking his father's exact posture, like a way to challenge him. "Okay, so tell me the first you killed someone and you still remember. How did you feel then?"

Vegeta glared at him in disapproval but he finally answered. "Ecstatic. I felt ecstatic. I was a kid and killing turned out to be the best way to feel almighty. Having people obeying my every order was nothing in comparison with the right to decide who would live and who wouldn't, all this without feeling doubt, without any real obstacle to overcome and without anyone daring to question my will. I was a Prince, I was powerful, I was like God."

Trunks frowned and Vegeta couldn't say if it was because he was awkward or deeply interested by his father's talk. Yet, he'd asked for it and Vegeta wasn't the type to cover up things. The boy rubbed his head with unease. "And did you ever… I don't know, like feel regret or question your acts afterwards?"

"Questioning and regrets are of no use when you're a soldier. Furthermore, when you're a soldier _and_ a Prince. They would only make me hesitant, that is to say weak. I told you, living on Vegetasei and being raised there was nothing like life on Earth. Besides, I already said how jubilant it made me each time, reminding me how powerful and untouchable I was, why should I have questioned my acting?."

"Even when you were no longer a Prince but just one of Freezer's soldiers?"

"Even more then. It was somehow my salvation to find weaklings to kill on my way and to remember I was still above them."

Trunks bit his lips while mulling over his father's story. "How does it come you don't feel that need to kill anymore, then? I mean, you didn't even kill that bitch that tried to shoot me."

This startled Vegeta. He hadn't thought about Gloria for half of the day and there she was, back again. _Elijah's home_. And so was that haunting question, why the fuck didn't he kill her? Years ago he wouldn't have the slightest doubt about what he had to do. So, why not just go to that place and have the job done? Why should everything be so complicated although his instinct knew it better how to act? Maybe, he was turning soft and weak. He hadn't been able to dodge Trunks attack after all.

Nor was Trunks able to dodge his father's fist rushing to his jaw as an answer to his question. He hadn't seen it coming. If Vegeta was still good at something, it was controlling his ki and it left few opportunities for his opponent to anticipate his move.

The boy fell on the floor with an angry groan. "Hey, what was that? The spar is over!"

"And so is your stupid game," Vegeta grunted while walking out the Gravity Room.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	19. Chapter 19

_Hey. Thanks for still being there. Things might speed up a bit until the end._

 ** _Kalebxdd_** _beta read this chapter. He's still a great writer._

* * *

 **Chapter 19.**

Vegeta had never given a damn about time so far. He hardly ever felt the need to look at the clock. His body had always told him when it was time to sleep, to wake up, to eat or to train. He had always been his own trustworthy clock. It was all the more true now that he had settled himself in the outhouse, far from the family's chaos.

Bulma hadn't said anything when she'd come back from her parents and found out that most of her husband's stuff had disappeared from their room and bathroom. It wasn't the first time Vegeta did such a thing, but the last time had been a long time ago and she had believed he was done with his creeping misanthropy. Yet, she knew that he had decided to move as much for his own sake as for the family's. She hadn't even tried to visit him, leaving him to his routine of training-eating-sleeping. Vegeta had been grateful for that, although he didn't doubt she would hold a grudge against him.

After three days she ended up knocking at his door. The night had fallen and it was freezing outside. He found her shivering on his treshold, with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She didn't wait and entered the house as a way to let him know she was still in her home. "God, close that door, I'm frozen," she mumbled while rubbing her arm with her free hand.

He obliged silently and turned to her. She walked to the dinner table and took a seat as if her visit was nothing special. She scrutinized him with a hint of suspicion and disapproval for a while and he stared back at her with a patient, unaffected face.

"So? How is it going?" she asked.

"What?"

"You know… Your retreat, or what should I call it? Yes, retreat sounds right."

He merely shrugged as he was considering that the question didn't deserve a real answer. She took a sip from her coffee and took a cigarette out of her pocket. He wanted to prevent her from lighting it up in his little refuge, knowing it would reek of nicotine for at least two days, but he kept quiet instead. He knew she was defying him, waiting for him to dare say anything about her smoking here in order to start an argument. It felt like a need she had to remind to him she existed, but he had no desire for a fight right now, nor for any talk at all to say the least.

She took a first drag and resumed. "All right, still mute so far. It won't make a difference to me. I just wanted to let you know, Bulla will be going back to school tomorrow and you may remember we still don't have a babysitter. It means you'll have to pick her up from school tomorrow afternoon."

He raised his eyebrows in bewilderment. "Are you kidding?"

She beamed at him. "I knew you still had a voice."

"I won't do that. Pay some of your secretaries to take care of it," he grumbled.

She raised her index finger and moved it in a negative sign. "I can't. It might surprise you but I need my secretary to do some secretary stuff. Besides, Bulla is wondering why her Dad is hiding in the outhouse, it will be a great opportunity to explain that point to her."

He rolled his eyes. "How long would this chore last?"

"Well, the time it takes to find someone to replace Gloria, and it's not such an easy task, I'm a bit reluctant to trust anyone to take care of my children. I still trust you so far, though."

He understood his wife speech too well. He himself hadn't foreseen Gloria's threat and now any stranger sneaking around the house, even the most ridiculous weakling, would have him on his guard. Still he didn't like the idea of playing Bulla's babysitter. He crossed his arms. "Do you really think I moved here to be assigned to such a boring mission? I need some time on my own."

She smiled again. "What I think, is that you moved here in order to let me know you were still by my side if needed, and I need you at 3.30 at the school's main door. The only thing you'll have to do will be to take your daughter home, and to try to be polite to any people that might address you."

He frowned but, as bored as he might be, he was unable to find any smart objection. Bulma took his silence as consent and stood up. She opened the door and, just before exiting the house, she turned to him. She opened her mouth but no words could come out and it seemed to make her upset all of a sudden. "I still hate you, don't screw up even more," she spat with a glare. Then she disappeared back in the dark frosted garden without bothering to close the door.

Now, what was that '3.30 at the school's main door', in a Saiyan's life where clocks didn't exist? Meaningless words spelled out together. Unsurprisingly, Vegeta was more than half an hour late as he showed up at the school's huge front door. It was closed and the place was deserted.

He stood numb for a while. What was he supposed to do now? He sighed in annoyance. Bulla had to be somewhere in the building, or at least, someone there could tell him where he could find the girl. He knocked at the heavy wooden door with a firm fist, forcefully enough to be loud but softly enough not to breach the door.

It lasted a moment and he was about to give up when he heard a slight step behind the door. A tiny woman opened it an inch. She was wearing big, thick glasses and he could hardly see her little eyes through them.

"What's going on? Didn't you see we have a bell?" she greeted with a high-pitched voice and a disapproving look.

He frowned and noticed the intercom next to the doorframe. He chased that detail from his mind straight away, he wanted to be done by now. "I have to pick up my daughter, Bulla Briefs."

She froze and stared at him with suspicion. "Are you Mister Briefs?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "Is she still there?"

She blurted out a sarcastic laugh. "Of course, she's here. Do you believe we would leave her alone on the streets because her Dad is _late_? Come in, please."

She cleared his way inside and closed the door behind his back. He followed her through a small courtyard and they entered the building. They walked along narrow corridors with large window panes opening up on a deserted schoolyard, and up to an empty room. The woman stopped there and turned to him.

"Bulla is having her snack in the dining hall with some other kids. I'll get her, just wait here," she announced.

"Be quick, I'm in a hurry," he grunted.

She smirked at him. "I know Mister Briefs, you're _late_ , right?"

He frowned at the feeling that she was mocking him but she was gone already. He sighed once more and crossed his arms. As time passed by, he became aware that she had really been mocking him and she had indeed no intention to hurry up.

With nothing else to do, he started to examine the setting around him. The room where he was was rather big, with small chairs and tables laid out in rows. Varicolored panels were pinned all over the walls, most of them were rough paintings likely crafted by the kids. They were all rather basic representations of reality.

On some other posters, things were written in capital letters. All of a sudden his eyes were caught by one of them. He came closer to it. He was still a bit uncomfortable with Earthling writing but thanks to the capital letters, he was able to read the title quite easily. "The Jabberwocky". He whispered the word while deciphering it.

He cringed and came even closer, trying to read the rest of the text. It was senseless though. ' _Twas brillig and the slighty toves(*)_ '. He squinted. He didn't get a thing, or maybe he was reading it wrong.

"Mister Briefs, Bulla's not quite done yet, but she will join you in a moment," the high-pitched voice announced in his back.

He turned to the tiny woman with thick glasses. "What's that?" he asked while pointing at the poster.

She walked closer and adjusted her glasses. "Huh. The Jabberwocky. It's a poem."

"What is it about? I can't understand a single word of it."

She had a little laugh. "Yes, it's rather funny. The author mixed up words to create words that don't exist, and you have to imagine their meaning somehow. The children like it a lot, we studied it with the kids from the kindergarten last year."

He gazed back at the poster. ' _Beware the Jabberwocky, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!(*)_ '

"The Jabberwocky is some kind of monster, and it's all about a young man fighting and defeating it while his father is supporting him," the woman added.

Vegeta gave up reading more and turned to the tiny woman. "Did Bulla know this story?"

"Of course, she studied it last years with her classmates. She liked it a lot. See, each child drew its own Jabberwocky, aren't they creative?" she answered showing the paintings hanging all around the text.

Vegeta raised his eyebrows and looked at the drawings on the wall. "Do you have Bulla's drawing here?" he asked with unease.

"Certainly, let's see."

The tiny woman started to watch each picture one by one. "Here," she stated while pointing at one of them. She had to step up on a chair to take the paper down from the wall and handed it to Vegeta.

He pried it out of her grip and looked at it with some excitement. He couldn't say what he was hoping to find there but he felt quite disappointed. It looked like a dragon. It was bulkier than Shenron and the head was different but it was a dragon, nevertheless. It had dreadful claws, just like in the poem. It was a felt pen drawing done by an unsteady hand.

At least, Bulla hadn't clouded her drawing by mixing all colors over it. The date on the paper said it was about one year old, so her habit to hide her drawing beneath paintings was likely less old than that. If one gave credit to the shrink's theory, it would mean the events disturbing her mind had to happen in the time gap between that drawing and the first sleepwalk.

"You can keep it," the woman said as if he needed her allowance.

He folded the paper with care and slipped it in his pocket as Bulla's steps were echoing in the corridor. The child beamed at him when she showed up on the room's threshold. "Dad!"

"Let's go," he grunted, leaving the girl hardly any time to wave goodbye at the tiny woman.

He ignored the woman's greetings and headed to the exit, having no desire to stay in that place longer than necessary. Bulla almost had to run to keep up with his pace. "Are you mad at me?" she whined when they reached the main door .

He realized that she was out of breath. He had almost forgotten her as he was lost in his thoughts and trying to connect the dots between his daughter's drawing and her sleepwalking crisis. His features softened at her sorry face and he stopped.

"Is it because I told Mum about the Gravity Room?" she asked.

He sighed. He was wondering if she would tell him anything about the drawing. He took it out of his pocket and showed it to her. She took it with concern and watched it for a moment.

"Is that your Jabberwocky?" he asked.

She gave a shy nod. He couldn't see her face, only the top of her skull. "Why do you cover your pictures with paint when you draw him?"

She handed the paper back to him. She was looking upset. "He wouldn't like it if you or Mum could see him. He could get angry."

Vegeta frowned and gazed at the ridiculous drawing again. It was more like a fat snake with paws and a strange head bigger than normal. It was certainly what the shrink had held for a "climbing plant" on the videos. Was Vegeta supposed to learn anything about the Jabberwocky with such a pathetic scheme? Or was it Bulla's nonsense again?

"Bulla, this animal doesn't exist. Where did you see it?"

The girl frowned and pressed her lips together as if preventing any words from coming out her mouth. He felt irritated on the go. He was out of patience these days and he just felt like locking her back in the Gravity Room with Gravity set on level 10 in order to get some answers. Yet, this would be a Saiyan way to handle the issue and Bulla wasn't a Saiyan child. She would only be more scared and disturbed. Furthermore, maybe there was no answer to expect.

He rubbed his eyelids and ended up curling the paper up in a ball. He thrusted it back in his pocket and resumed his walk through the school's main door, pulling his daughter behind him.

After this talk, Bulla didn't dare to say anything until they were home. Her father didn't bother hiding his annoyance and as soon as they reached the house, she disappeared in her room and took great care not to stand in his way.

Back to his lonely shelter in the outhouse, he couldn't help but to unroll the paper. He stared at it again. Was this supposed to be something real? Maybe Bulma would know something about it.

When it was late enough to ensure Bulla was asleep, he crossed the frosted garden and entered the main house. Everything was dark and quiet in the hallway. He could hear the weak humming of his son's music upstairs. He headed to the lounge where he'd spotted the only light on on the ground floor.

Bulma was sitting on the couch and focusing on the screen of her laptop. The only lamp on was the one standing near the sofa, so the whole room was plunged into a cold twilight. He walked closer to her. He had the feeling she wasn't aware of his presence but when he was close enough, she raised tranquil, knowing eyes on him.

"What did you say to Bulla?" she asked with a stern voice. "She was sad and quiet the whole evening."

"I have a picture she made of her Jabberwocky," he announced.

Bulma frowned in disbelief. "Where did you get that from? You had her draw it for you? How?"

Vegeta had the paper in his hand. He handed it out to his wife. "They gave it to me at school. They said the Jabberwocky was a poem she studied last year."

"A poem?" Bulma repeated with surprise while taking her daughter's drawing.

She rested her laptop on the coffee table and sat in a more comfortable position in order to examine the picture. "What the heck is this?"

"It's supposed to be a monster. To me it looks more like…"

"A dragon," Bulma stated.

"Yes. A dragon."

"Not Shenron in any case. Bulla has never seen Shenron anyway."

"I asked her questions about it," Vegeta resumed while sitting with unease in the armchair facing the couch. He couldn't say why all this made him nervous.

"Asked her questions?" Bulma scolded with suspicion.

"Stop it, I didn't harm her. You know I would never do that," he replied with irritation.

"You don't even realize how harsh you are sometimes. I'm used to it and I can deal with it. Not Bulla."

He gritted his teeth to contain his anger. He craved to point out that he had never stepped in while she had raised up their son like a rotten Earthling kid. Vegeta had never claimed anything Saiyan in their education so far, yet whether Bulma liked it or not, they were half Saiyan and Vegeta was the only one able to deal with this part of their heritage. He gave up the idea of arguing, though. It wasn't the point. Not tonight.

"Whatever," he grunted, "I asked her why she always covered her drawing beneath painting and she told me the Jabberwocky wouldn't like us to see him. In my mind it means we might recognize that thing somehow. I've watched it for hours but I don't have a clue. Have you ever seen something close to this beast?"

Bulma gazed back at the picture with care. It lasted a while before she answered. "Maybe. It's slightly familiar to me but… I can't say why. Maybe it just reminds me of Shenron after all."

She kept on staring at the drawing, as if something could cross her mind all of sudden. He was waiting patiently for a miracle but she ended up sighing in defeat.

"Have you seen the date? It's about one year old," she stated. "I remember it was more or less the time when Bulla started mentioning the Jabberwocky but that's rather logical since she had learned the poem at that very same time."

"You still remember when she began that crap?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, I do. I do because I listen to her, my Lord," she replied with sarcasm. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"I also do remember because it was when Trunks ran away," she added, "I had always thought she had created the Jabberwocky as a comforting friend when he left her alone in the house the night he ran away. I thought she had been scared to discover he was gone and there was nobody to watch her in this big house in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, what a comforting friend," Vegeta huffed.

"In my mind, he was more like a giant Teddy Bear, not such a thing like a dragon with awful claws."

She folded the paper with care and gave it back to him. "Maybe this is a good hint to understand what's going on with Bulla. I will research and we'll see if I find anything looking like this thing."

"Do that," he approved while standing up.

"Meanwhile, Baba will come to our party and it will be the perfect opportunity to ask her about Bulla. I'm sure we'll end up finding out what's wrong."

He nodded despite his scepticism about the old witch and stepped away, but she called him back.

"I called Mum, she was on a trip but she'll come back and she will take care of Bulla from tomorrow on. You won't need to pick her up at school anymore."

"A good thing," he mumbled.

"Why?" Bulma had hardly whispered the question but he grasped the hint of sadness in it. She was looking at him with concern. He hated it when she had such helpless face. "Don't ask, Bulma, it's just the way I am. I did my part of the deal and only you know the price I paid, don't ask for more, I'm broke."

She cleared her throat. "I know, I know. Good night, Your Hignhness," she answered with a raspy voice while turning her back on him and going back to her laptop.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**

 _(*) Credit to Lewis Caroll, Through the Looking Glass (And what Alice found there), 1871._


	20. Chapter 20

_Hoy. Thanks again or all the reviews and nice things._

 _ **Kalebxdd** worked behind the scenes again as my beta-reader. _

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Sitting on a couch apart from the crowd, Vegeta was gazing at the loud guests celebrating in the huge reception hall. They were all there. The little bald monk, the tall Namekian, the bearded pervert, the scarface. All of them were binging and having fun in a deafening, overheated atmosphere.

The only one missing was the one Vegeta had been truly waiting for. Goku was supposed to join them, or at least his wife had said so, but as usual he hadn't shown up and Vegeta realized it was late now. The bell had already announced the New Year for a while, and Goku's ki was nowhere nearby.

Vegeta sighed. He envied the other Saiyan's carelessness about the Earthling ritual. Chichi wouldn't even be able to nag at her husband for missing the party. Vegeta was wondering if Goku hadn't indeed chosen a better path than himself. The former Prince was still living in the outhouse as far away as possible from his freaky, exhausting family and he hadn't been able so far to make any definitive decision whether to leave the place once and for all or to return to his Earthling life. Goku wouldn't bother that much.

Vegeta was snatched out his meditation by a slight touch on his lap. He found out Bulla was standing in front of him with a large smile on her face. Bulma had dressed her in a red velvet dress with a lacy collar, and her hair was tied with silky ribbons. The kid looked quite like a doll that way but her father knew she liked it. She loved that outfit and had been very excited to wear it. That made Vegeta aware of the distance separating their worlds. Fighting would never excite her, nor flying, nor controlling her ki, nor beating any monsters that would scare her. What excited the girl was playing a fairy in a ballet or looking like a doll. She liked sweet, delicate things, regardless to their usefulness or the might they could provide to her. It sounded so unfamiliar to him that he was well-aware that he would somehow always be a stranger to her. Yet, there was that deep, strange feeling within him. He couldn't help but consider her like an unique treasure that had to be protected no matter the cost. At this thought, he gave her a weak smile.

"Make some room for me," she yawned while climbing on the sofa next to him. She nestled herself against him and rested her head in his lap.

Vegeta had noticed disgusting chocolate stains on her chin and even on her dress, so he had a backlash. "Fine, just don't mess up my shirt with your chocolate crap, you got stains all over your chin," he mumbled.

The girl blinked in surprise and wiped her face with her sleeves, leaving some marks on her skin, before putting her head down back on her father's laps.

He looked down at her. Her flawless hairstyle had turned into a mess of strands due to her running all around and crawling under tables. The ribbons had long given up to their duty to hold the locks in straight ponytails. Bulla seemed to be back to a more normal life lately. She hardly still had some nightmares. He patted her head gently. "Don't fall asleep on me, Princess, just go to bed."

"I'm so tired, would you carry me to my room?" she asked with a little pleading voice.

He grunted with annoyance as he understood her loving behaviour had only been a way to coax him to carry her to her bed.

"Hm. You don't like it much when there are too many people around, do you?" a voice stated all of sudden.

Vegeta got startled and needed some time before finding out that the pinkish-haired witch was standing in front of them. Bulla sat up on the go and frowned at the sight. Baba gave her her best toothless smile which caused the kid to press herself a little more against her father.

Then, the old woman turned her gaze to Vegeta. "In fact, you don't like the crowd either, but she's got a better reason than you to dislike people's company."

She winked at Bulla "Am I wrong, honey?"

"What do you mean?" Vegeta asked.

The witch's smile faded a bit. "Didn't you tell your parents about those intrusive voices and feelings in you, sweetheart? You should have by now, you're big enough," she scowled at Bulla.

The little girl grasped her father's shirt and buried her face in the fabric in order to hide from Baba's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" the Saiyan asked again, with a more demanding tone.

Baba had her hands clasped behind her back and her eyes glued to the little girl that still refused to look at her. The old witch sighed. "Honey, I have to tell them, don't you mind? Your mum's worried about you."

Bulla straightened all of a sudden. "I don't know what you're talking about," she exclaimed. Then, she jumped on her feet and ran away.

Vegeta watched her in bewilderment as she got lost in the crowd. "What the heck was that?"

Baba was still looking in the direction the girl had headed and gave another sigh. "Your wife told me your daughter was acting weird, she told me you were worried about some strange things the kid says and she asked me if I had any idea what could be wrong with her."

"So?" Vegeta mumbled, hardly able to hide his curiosity.

"Do you know what empathy is?" Baba asked. "I guess not. Empathy is the ability to feel other people's feelings and, to a larger extent, to guess their thoughts. In a way, it's the ability to slip in other people's shoes. Everyone got this ability more or less… Or at least, Earthlings do."

"And what does this have to do with Bulla?" Vegeta spat with irritation while crossing his arms and leaning toward the little woman in a threatening gesture. Baba lashed back a little. "Bulla suffers an excess of empathy, maybe she inherited that which you lack," she hissed with sarcasm.

The Saiyan merely frowned and the old woman seemed to enjoy his full attention. She cleared her throat. "Your daughter is hypersensitive. Her mind is unable to protect itself from others' minds wandering around, and she finds herself unwillingly connected to people's feelings. Sometimes, when people are close enough to her, this connection can even take an incredible extent."

Vegeta gave the old woman an incredulous glare. However, truth to be told, he was torn between the option of shrugging with disdain or asking for more. Baba was gazing back at him with cold, knowing eyes, still standing in silence right in front of him.

"What is supposed to happen then?" Vegeta mumbled.

"The connection is generally activated by great feelings. Then, both minds fuse somehow. If the host's mind is weaker than hers, Bulla will take the upper hand and her will and feelings will overwhelm the other person. Yet if the host's mind is stronger than hers, Bulla will submit to it. She will feel, know and think the exact same things as her host. In some extreme cases, she would even be able to see and hear the things her host does. Just like I said, she would walk in this host's shoes."

"You mean she would stuck in that person's head?"

"Exactly. Stuck is the right word, like an intangible ghost, able to understand what's going on but unable to affect the course of events."

"Huh. Very hard to believe," Vegeta stated.

"For a stubborn brain like yours, I guess it is, but think about it. How does she behave with you?"

"Are you hinting she could go into my head the way you described? What a joke," he mocked.

Baba shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean, your mind is much too impervious to allow her any deep connections with you but I'm sure she's sensitive enough to guess your main feelings."

Vegeta mulled about that statement. Truth to be told, he had always been surprised about the little girl keeping her distance from him. Sometimes she even ignored him while she liked to cuddle her mother a lot. Even her relationship with Trunks had always been much warmer. Vegeta had never complained about his daughter's behavior because he hated any Earthling displays of affection like kisses or hugs. He disliked any physical contact apart from some very particular circumstances. So, what the old witch was saying could make some sense, because the way Bulla acted with him looked more like the exact reflection of his own feelings than like her natural way of being with people. He frowned at this thought.

Baba smiled as if she could hear his mind agreeing with her theory. "I'm sure she's always a good girl, doing exactly what people expect from her."

Vegeta shrugged. "The way she acts with me doesn't mean anything. Furthermore, she hasn't been what you call a good girl lately, and she hasn't done what I expected from her either."

"Yeah, Bulma told me about that, that's a bit worrying. She told me about an imaginary friend."

"That's right, she won't admit it's all in her head and she's scared of it. I don't think there's much you can do about that."

Baba rubbed her chin in a thoughtful gesture. "Maybe this isn't about an imaginary friend but about someone she's connected to."

Vegeta huffed. "I don't think so, unless you have ever seen such a thing wandering around," he retorted while slipping Bulla's picture of the Jabberwocky out of his pocket.

The witch unfolded the paper and watched the drawing for a moment. She gave it back to the Saiyan and shook her head. "No. Never seen such a thing before. If this is supposed to be her imaginary friend, I can't say what it's all about. Nevertheless, I think Bulla might need some help to deal with that hypersensitivity. You should send her to me for a few days, I'll teach her some tricks to get along with it."

"Whatever," Vegeta sighed while running his hand in his mane.

"As you wish. I wanted to chat with your wife about that issue but I think… huh… She won't be very receptive by now. Tell her to call me."

Vegeta spotted Bulma on the dancefloor. She was laughing and wobbling in a manner that left little doubt about what she had to drink. He rolled his eyes. When he looked down, Baba was gone already. She had left him behind with that goddam drawing in his hand.

He couldn't prevent his eyes from locking themselves back on that fucking pathetic sketch. He thought back about the witch's theory.

All of sudden, some gears were triggered in his brain and he felt like a light had been turned on to give him complete view on the setting. A shiver ran up his spine and he gasped.

He jumped on his feet and made his way forcefully in the crowd. He had to see Trunks. Right now. Yet, the boy was nowhere to be found. The Saiyan was too impatient to go through the whole house and he ended up walking straight to a poker table where Goten was sitting with Krillin, Yamcha and that huge guy, Goku's father in law.

Their coarse laughs were interrupted by Vegeta's nervous voice. "Goten, where's Trunks?" he barked, causing everyone to startle.

Goku's son raised surprised eyes on the Saiyan. The boy had a second thought and scratched his head. "Huh… I haven't seen him in a while."

"I saw him flying off, maybe half an hour ago. Surely gone to join a girl, you should leave him alone," Krilin answered with a raspy voice and a wink.

"Shut up, drunkass," Goten hissed.

A general laugh bursted out but Vegeta wasn't listening anymore. _Fuck._ He strode away ignoring Yamcha's voice in his back. "Just, don't tell Bulma!"

After a few steps though, the Saiyan bumped into his daughter again. She bounced on him and hugged him forcefully. He felt her trembling against his body. He crouched down and returned a gentle embrace. "Dad, it's happening again," she whispered. He pressed her closer to him and rubbed her head in a soothing gesture. "I'm going to take care of that once and for all, Princess. Don't worry, I swear everything's gonna be fine," he answered with a low voice.

She looked up at him with hope shining in her eyes. "You won't hurt anyone, will you? I'm so scared," she murmured. He ran a finger along her soft cheek stained with a curious mix of chocolate and tears. She looked so innocent. "I said everything will be fine. Just promise me you won't tell anyone," he answered.

She nodded while sniffing. He took her in his arms and lifted her. Her light body was still shaking from sobs. Vegeta was in a hurry, though. He spotted Gohan's wife and walked to her. Videl had no time to protest as he thrusted his child in her arms. "Take care of her, she had a nightmare," he grunted. Videl's mouth opened but by the time she could form any sound, Vegeta was gone, ignoring his daughter's frantic calls.

He dashed out the house. When he closed the door, the humming of the party was muffled and he enjoyed the sudden quietness. However, he had no time to linger on that feeling. He shut his eyes and stood still in the frozen garden for a minute. His mouth was dry with a bitter taste in it, and his heart was beating up to his ear while praying that his son wouldn't have suppressed his _ki_ this time.

Vegeta focused hard and his mind located Trunks's energy with a frightening accuracy. His blood froze and he had a deep frown of disbelief. That was bad.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


	21. Chapter 21

_Hi. Thanks for all the nice feedbacks._

 _ **Kalebxdd** is still my beta reader. He helped a lot on this chapter. Don't hesitate to take a look at his stories._

* * *

 **Chapter 21.**

In the distance, he felt a peak of energy growing up gradually and finally exploding with an incredible power. After that, everything came back to normal all of sudden.

Vegeta kept flying over the landscape, unaffected. He still remembered the map he had studied with care some days ago, so he knew the exact way to his destination. Moreover, if needed, the glare of his son's vivid aura would guide him.

Elijah's home appeared to be a two-storey square building lying in the middle of a deserted piece of land, miles away from the town's outskirts. The asylum's outlines were standing out against the clear sky. Tiny dots of lights could be seen in some windows, but everything was peaceful and motionless. A large road was running up to the place where Gloria was supposed to be locked, but no one seemed to live nearby. Bright shining stars were enlightening the icy night, which allowed the Saiyan to scrutinize the country beneath him. His mind had known that it would be of no good to come here. As usual, his instinct proved to be cruelly right.

Vegeta resumed his flight over Elijah's home and aimed for a quiet hill some miles further. He landed there without a second thought. A few steps away from him, a black form was lying on the ground. He walked closer and looked down at what was left of freaky Gloria by now. Her body was half burnt but her face was untouched and the moon was casting an eerie gleam on the sight.

Rather oddly, his first thought was that she'd been a pretty girl and he'd never noticed that fact. Her silky black hair was framing her oval face and highlighted her perfect pale skin. A trickle of blood was running from her forehead and down her white cheek like a colored tear, while her hazel eyes were wide open and giving the sky a questioning gaze. Like many others she had doubted her death until the very end. Yet, he knew there were no longer any questions, nor feeling inside her heart, only emptiness and coldness.

He could smell the odor of her burnt flesh despite the freezing of the air. It was bothersome and he rubbed his nose to chase away the unpleasant smell that was permeating his nostrils. Then, he locked on to Trunks's silhouette, standing a few feet from him.

The boy was motionless, his hand casually thrusted in his pockets, while contemplating his work and ignoring his father.

"How did it feel?" the Saiyan asked.

The teenager raised his head and looked at Vegeta for the first time. The shadows on his face wouldn't let his father discern his features. "Good. I have to say it feels good. It always does," Trunks answered with a dull voice.

Vegeta nodded and stared back at the young dead girl at his feet. She looked so helpless, she was almost childish as she was lying lifeless in the grass. He wasn't even sure how old she was. Maybe twenty. Twenty-two at best. He thought back about what Bulma had said about young people dying unexpectedly, how terrible she felt about such things. To Vegeta a dead body had always been nothing more than a dead body with no connection to the person it had belonged to. Life was limited in time, even if everyone would rather forget that detail.

He turned his attention back to his son. "How many did you kill before?" Vegeta asked while stepping over former Gloria to join him.

Trunks shrugged and sat down casually on the ground with his legs crossed in front of him. He took a little bag of tobacco out of his pocket and focused on it. "Dunno. This one owed me, though," he mumbled.

Vegeta didn't feel any anger at that reply, the only thing he was feeling was something vivid, unpleasant and unfamiliar to him. He crouched down in front of the boy and realized that Trunks seemed to be quell, not even nervous about his father being there. Maybe he had been waiting for him to find out, he was smart enough to know his acting wouldn't go forever unnoticed by the Saiyan.

"And the others? The others you killed, did they owe you?" Vegeta resumed

Trunks had unfolded a thin rolling paper and he was now smoothing it between two fingers. He glanced at his father and focused back on his work. "I only kill jerks."

"So far," the Saiyan added with a stern voice.

"I know what I do,"

"Or so you think," Vegeta grunted with a hint of irritation," How the hell did you get the idea to start that crap in the first place?"

Trunks grabbed pinches of tobacco and spread them with delicate gestures on the paper that was resting on one of his lap. He paused and looked up at the Saiyan. "You still remember I ran away last year? That was when. We had fussy bastards extorting money and scaring my schoolmates. They'd been doing it for several months and I decided it had to come to an end, cause, I mean, aren't we supposed to be some sort of watchmen on Earth?"

The boy sighed and interrupted himself for a while as if mulling over that statement. He resumed his work by flattening the tobacco in the paper's fold. "I couldn't fight them in public and reveal my strength to everyone, so I decided to track down the guys' leader and take care of him so that the others would get the message. It sounded very exciting in my mind, it was much more than that in the end," he added.

Vegeta rubbed his chin and closed his eyes as his son's explanation became much too familiar to him.

"I didn't intend to run away for a whole week. I thought it would take me a couple hours that night when you were out with Mum, and I had imagined I would be back before your return. Bulla was asleep and I guessed she wouldn't find out I was gone. But things turned out in a very different way."

Trunks paused again. This time, Vegeta had the feeling the boy had a second thought before confessing more. Yet, the Saiyan had to hear it even if he had suspicions what would follow. "You found the guy, you beat him to a pulp and then…"

Trunks raised empty eyes on him. "Yeah, and then… You know what comes next, Dad, don't you? Then, I couldn't stop until he was nothing more than a bloody mess and completely dead."

The teenager was talking with an unaffected voice. He rubbed his forehead and breathed loudly, almost like a sigh, as if he was missing air. Vegeta suspected that he wasn't as unconcerned as he sounded about that story, the Saiyan could picture all the blunt memories of that special night surging back in his son's brain.

"I won't lie," Trunks resumed, "while contemplating what I did, I was scared of it, and how much I wanted to do it. I was sure you would guess everything the instant you would meet my eyes, so I decided not to go back home. I slept in a dingy hotel, trying hard to deny how much I had liked to take this guy's life, but the next morning, the glee and the excitement were still haunting me, I craved to do it again so I made the decision to take care of the whole gang and it took me a whole week"

Vegeta lowered his head in weariness. Trunks's words were like a terrible déjà-vu to him. He could remember that feeling his son called "glee and excitement". Although it was now some distant memory, his whole being still remembered it. "After that, you did it again. That's why you're out so often at night, right?" The Saiyan stated, unable to look up back at his son as he dreaded the answer.

Yet, he received no answer. When he eyed his boy, Trunks was gazing at him with his lips curled in a strange smile tinged with both sorrows and resignation. "Dad, I swear… I never hurt anyone innocent… I… I just wander around the streets and whenever I find some nasty bastards, I…"

"You're hunting," Vegeta cut off.

Trunks pinched his lips and frowned. "I… No… The guys I get… We said we were supposed to protect the Earth. That's what I do… Sort of," he stammered.

"You're hunting," Vegeta repeated matter-of-factly. "What we did to protect the Earth, that was fighting, the force in presence were rather the same. What you are doing is hunting prey that don't stand a chance. You just like the pleasure of killing."

"You can't say that!" Trunks exclaimed, "You were the sadistic one killing harmless people, while enjoying the sight of their deaths, I only get rid of some rats."

"Whatever the excuse, the instinct is very much the same and it might consume you if you don't watch yourself," Vegeta objected knowingly.

Trunks bit his lip but didn't reply. Instead he focused back on his cigarette. He licked the paper and sticked it before packing down the tobacco.

Vegeta stood up very slowly. He felt weary. He had hoped this would never happen, he had tried to forget, he had wanted to believe this couldn't happen because Trunks had such an Earthling life and he was only half Saiyan. Goku and his son had never seemed to face such instinct, so it was nothing fateful. Why Trunks?

The air was crisp and their breaths were turning into faint mists when coming out from their mouths, but it was as if both men were unaffected by the cold temperature. Vegeta heard the click of Trunks's lighter when his son lit his cigarette.

The boy's voice echoed once more. "I wished you told me all this much earlier. I thought you would guess very quickly… But of course you didn't. You never give a damn no matter what it's all about," Trunks grumbled, "I wanted… I wanted to understand that thing in me and that's why I asked you questions about your former life. Because, I have to admit it was fun at first, but then… Then, Becky died…"

"So? What should it change? Or did you kill her too?" Vegeta grunted with a frown.

As a reply to the last question, Trunks merely glared at him while exhaling his cigarette's smoke. "I started considering death in a brand new light from the day she died, that's what it changed. I started questioning myself about killing people so carelessly, even it was all about bastards. Yet, on the other hand, it kept making me so- how did you say that, again? – 'ecstatic'. I tried to stop, I tried hard, but I could only slow down a bit. And even simply slowing down was painful. It made me nervous enough to beat that guy at my party or even to feel like crashing Marron's head in a wall. Anything would make me furious in a blink, it was as if my mind was awaiting the slightest opportunity to kill someone."

The boy lowered his head between his knees and spat some tobacco shreds on the ground. He ran his hand over his face and looked up at his father with puzzled eyes. "See what I did to Gloria? I had been dreaming of it since we picked up the phone to call the police. I cursed Bulla for being there and preventing me from having my way. I spent weeks looking for where they'd sent her and it drove me almost crazy." Distraught and confusion were shining in the teenager's eyes as he mentioned his possible insanity. "It's like it's no longer me inside or is it?" he asked in a pleading tone.

Vegeta craved to tell him, it was always him, it had been him all the time, or at least a part of him, and he would have to deal with it. Yet, the Saiyan felt slight guilt about his son's helplessness because, to say the least, he hadn't prepared the boy that much to face that part of his heritage. Like Trunks had said, Vegeta had never given a damn, it had been much more convenient to have Bulma raising the kids on her own and to believe that, being raised like an Earthling, Trunks would just become a pure Earthling. So, Vegeta decided to keep quiet because it was of no use now to have Trunks more frantic than he already was. The Saiyan rested his palm on his son's shoulder instead. "You have to stop that shit."

Trunks squinted in irritation. "Easier said than done, I already tried. Fuck, whenever I go out downtown I always end up wandering in the bad part of town, hoping to cross some evil badass. I'm not sure I can do it."

"You'll have to, though," Vegeta stated in a demanding tone.

Trunks frowned. "Are you gonna lecture me after everything you told me about your former life? You never care. As long as Mum doesn't suspect anything, why would my way of life matter so much to you, after all? "

"Because of the Jabberwocky."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "The Jabberwocky? Bulla's imaginary friend? What does it have to do with all this?"

Vegeta sighed and scratched his head. "Wanna see the Jabberwocky? Your sister drew him, take a look," he offered while taking the paper out of his pocket.

Trunks grabbed it with disbelief and unfolded it. His eyes widened at the sight. "What the fuck…" He rolled up his sleeve with a nervous gesture and looked down at his tattoo. "Why did she draw my dragon?"

"Because you are her Jabberwocky. It's not an imaginary friend in her head, it's just that dark part of you."

"What's that?" he mumbled.

"Baba told me your sister was hypersensitive and able to connect to some people's minds. When she does, her mind fuses with the other one; when it's a weaker mind, the person gets overtaken by her, but when it's a stronger mind, Bulla is the one perceiving all of her host's feelings and thoughts. What bullshit, huh? But think about it, look at the date."

Trunks did as he was told and frowned. "That's just two days after my runaway, I… I started my tattoo that day…How… How could she know?"

Vegeta sighed at this information that was just enforcing his belief and turned his gaze to the nightly quiet landscape around him. "Your mother told me the first time Bulla mentioned the Jabberwocky was when you ran away and she spent the night alone at home. Bulma thought she'd created an imaginary friend to get some comfort because she had been scared. Yet, in fact… I think she created the Jabberwocky when you killed that guy, because she was connected to you and she reacted just like you did. She couldn't believe it was you killing and liking it. To her it could only be a sort of monster and she had just studied the Jabberwocky at school. That day you became the Jabberwocky in her mind as a way to deny what her beloved brother was becoming."

Vegeta had a bitter smirk, thinking the shrink wasn't far from the truth somehow. Trunks listened to him in bewilderment, the crumpled paper still in his hand. His father looked back at him. "I'm sure that, deep down her mind, she knows it's you, that's why she wouldn't let us see her drawings of the Jabberwocky. She knew about your girlfriend too, who told her about her death anyway? Surely not your Mum, was it you?"

The boy shook his head. "Why would I?" he breathed.

Vegeta shrugged and resumed, "Yet, Bulla knew your friend had died, she knew details about her, like that nose stud she had, she knew about you behaving like an ass, she liked the girl because you did too and she mourned her as if it was her own friend. Now, thinking about it, things became worse when you started struggling. I'm sure it was what triggered her sleepwalking because containing your anger made it even stronger."

Trunks let go of the picture and the paper fell in the grass. He had forgotten about his cigarette between his fingers and it had died out. He ran a hand in his hair in dejection. "I can't believe that," he mumbled.

"She was scared and confused, she wanted to help you defeat that "Jabberwocky", she needed that part of you to go back to the depth of your mind, because it was so intrusive and wild and controlling. The first time when she sleepwalked and we found her with the knife, I'm sure, she was trying to kill him somehow by tearing up the very same arm where your tattoo is. "

"What you say sounds so crazy," Trunks grumbled. His denial wasn't very firm, though. Vegeta crouched down back to his level to catch his attention and looked him right in the eyes.

"Maybe. Maybe I'm wrong about that, but she's a six-year old, her thoughts aren't always very rational. And what about the second time she sleepwalked? God, she crashed the windows, flew off and suppressed her ki to fly up downtown, heading right in your direction. Can you believe that? She _suppressed_ her ki. How could Bulla do such a thing? She could because she was connected to your spirit and to your knowledge, because your fury against that kid at your party was so powerful that it triggered a reaction from her mind. Have you ever felt this connection with her? Even a little bit?"

Trunks blinked. He looked affected and seemed to think about an answer for a while. "Like… Like when you took her in the Gravity Room and turned the Gravity on, and she was panic-stricken and furious? I can't even say why I came to the Gravity Room that day, but I urged to go there. I even felt myself mad at you, I felt like beating you and I needed a good old fight with you after that, I needed to win the game as if I had been the one you had locked in the Gravity Room."

"Yeah, I noticed that, you've become a much better fighter lately, I suppose it's because that side of yourself you had the recklessness to release." Vegeta snorted.

Trunks didn't even smile at that statement. "Jeez, I never wanted Bulla to go through all that shit… I didn't know," he whispered with a sorry voice.

"I never wanted any of you both to go through all that shit," Vegeta retorted while standing up.

He felt strangely empty at that moment. Everything was clear now. No more mystery. Yet the situation seemed even worse than before and he couldn't help but to feel guilty. He walked back to Gloria's lifeless body and watched her for a while.

"And what about her?" Trunks asked all of a sudden.

The Saiyan heard his son getting to his feet and joining him. "Why the hell did that bitch try to kill me?"

Vegeta pursed his lips and looked right into the empty hazel eyes. "I think she was also connected to your sister," he replied after a second thought.

"What?" Trunks exclaimed.

"Not the same way though. Bulla had the upper hand with her. She would have Gloria let her watch forbidden movies or eat the dishes your sister didn't want to finish, that kind of childish crap. Bulla never meant to hurt her. I think the kid was under such strain because of the bond she was sharing with you, that Gloria could feel it by rebound and it drove her crazy, especially when she had to spend several days with Bulla 24 hours a day during your mother's trip, so she decided to get rid of the problem by killing you."

"You mean she wasn't herself when she did it?" Trunks gasped.

Vegeta turned to his son. "Does that make a difference to you? You told me you knew what you were doing."

The teenager took a step backwards. His eyes were wide open in horror. "Man, you're just telling me she tried to kill me because I was unwillingly hurting Bulla, so… Yes, that makes a difference to me," he stammered with a shaky voice.

Vegeta merely nodded. "Then get used to making no difference or quit that habit to give into that excitement of killing. Because if you keep going on, it will become an addiction so strong that you'll end up making no difference who and why you're killing."

Trunks buried his face in his hand and blurted a slight whimper. He fell on his knees, panting and gasping and his father wondered whether he was crying or trying to refrain his urge to scream. Surely enough, he was aching. He was aching from realizing what a monster he could become, a real Jabberwocky just like his sister pictured it. Killing wasn't so _cool_ in the end, it wasn't so _fun_. Like Vegeta had suspected it, Trunks was much too Earthling to take it all. Trying to 'make a difference' was a typical Earthling's mistake and that's why the Saiyan would never tell anyone how many he had killed himself, he would never tell how he had killed them, nor how much he had enjoyed it. They would only look at him like a monster, denying all of a sudden the fact that monsters didn't truly exist.

He walked closer to his son and rested his hands on his shoulders. He couldn't see his face but he could feel him trembling and hear his muffled sobs. "You have to stop that for Bulla's sake. I'll help you if I can."

Trunks rubbed his face with his forearm and raised his shining face to his father. His eyes were wet and gleaming in the moonlight but he looked determined. "Your mother must never know," Vegeta added with a soft voice.

The boy's gaze slipped down to Gloria. He was mesmerized by the sight and looked like a praying man on a grave as he was kneeling right in front of the dead body, ignoring the icy breeze lifting his hair and the frost soaking his pants.

As Vegeta believed his son was about to break down and cry again, Trunks shook his head slowly. "You're right, Mum must never know, it would surely kill her," he whispered.

Then, he turned back to his father and the Saiyan was surprised to see a calm and determined expression on the boy's face. "It's time to let the Jabberwocky die, I'll defeat that monster in me. With your support, I know I can do it."

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**

 _Next chapter will be the epilogue of this story._


	22. Epilogue

_Here we are, this is the end of this story. Thanks to all of you for your support because writing in English hadn't always been an easy thing and it had me yelling out of frustration sometimes. I owe a special great thank to **Kalebxdd** who was on the front line yet never flinched. _

_So long._

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Although summer had hardly begun, the heat was suffocating already. A bright sun was shining and its light was blinding to the point that the curtains had to be drawn at each window.

Trunks's skull was still giving his warning grin in the fresh twilight in the corridor but it looked less vivid, almost tired. Vegeta gave a knock at the door and entered his son's room without waiting for any reply. He froze on the go as he was struck by the orderliness of the place. It had been tidied up and the usual mess was entirely gone, with the slight odor of household products still floating in the air. A huge, full travel bag was resting on the neat bed and the room was deserted.

Vegeta's gaze wandered over the quiet decor. All the posters had been taken down, all the little notes and flyers pinned above the desk had disappeared. The desk itself had been cleared from any papers, there was hardly a pencil left on it. The whole room looked empty as if unoccupied, as if no one had ever lived there. The Saiyan felt an unexpected unease at the sight, like a sort of sour panic.

He knew his son was about to leave, it was nothing new to him, yet he couldn't help an odd, dull anguish from knotting his gut.

"Gosh, can you believe, my damn cell has just gone out of order?" Trunks's voice mumbled behind his back. The boy had just walked in and was tapping on the black screen of his laptop with the tip of his finger. He sighed and gave up with irritation. "I'll find a solution, but Mum will be mad if she can't call me for the two next days," he stated.

"She'll get used to it. The deal is not talking to her every single day on the phone, is it?" Vegeta replied.

Trunks chuckled. "Well, that's true, it's not the deal but Mum won't let go of me so easily."

The Saiyan couldn't help a weak smile at his son's laugh. Vegeta was aware that Trunks's voice wouldn't echo in his ears for a very long time and his mind was slow to admit how terrible this idea was. Moreover, the Saiyan was preoccupied with something much more serious than this soft, stupid nostalgia, and his face turned back to a wary expression. "Are you really sure that you know what you're doing?" he mumbled.

Trunks looked up at him. "Dad… Mum asked me that question a thousand times before," he hissed while slipping his cell in his pocket.

"You know my question isn't exactly the same as your mother's," Vegeta grunted.

The boy's smile vanished and he chased a strand from his forehead. "Bulla's fine and I'm sure she will be even better with me far away."

"She's fine because that witch taught her to control her senses and because you stopped messing around. Where's the need for you to leave?" his father objected with suspicion.

Trunks diverted his gaze from him with unease. "Dad… I'm almost eighteen by now, and done with high school. I feel like travelling a bit before deciding anything about what I should do in my life. I also do it for myself."

"I have nothing against that, I was just wondering if you felt strong enough. You had a hard time in the last six months."

"Don't you trust me?" Trunks asked with a defiant peek at him.

"It got nothing to do with trust, I want to be sure you will be safe."

The boy smirked. "My, I think I've never heard that from your mouth."

"Because I never feared the danger coming from outside, but I dread the danger coming from inside," Vegeta uttered with a stern voice.

Trunks frowned and rested a hand on the Saiyan's shoulder. The son was now bigger than the father but it wasn't enough to turn the tables. "Everything's gonna be alright. I know where I can find you in case I need some help."

Vegeta was still gauging the boy's eyes though. In the last six months he'd watched him very carefully to prevent him to go back to old toxic habits. It had been an unpleasant and demanding task. Despite Trunks's firm commitment by Gloria's body, things hadn't been so easy for the boy, and he had been on the verge of cracking up more than once. Vegeta had hated to guard him as much as Trunks had hated to be guarded. To say the least, both of them had craved to be freed from each other.

Nevertheless, as painful as it had been, watching his boy had changed something in the Saiyan. He couldn't explain exactly what it was but it was as if those months spent caring for Trunks had taught him everything he had failed to understand for years.

Before all this, Vegeta had thought he had done everything he could to fit in that Earthling life. He'd given up his old dream of might and conquest, he'd accepted locking his boiling fighting spirit in the Gravity Room, he'd resigned to protecting instead of destroying, he'd swapped his steady loneliness for a family life. What man could claim enough will to deal with such mending? That path had never been anything easy or natural for him, and he'd had to struggle with his pride and with his past's scars in order to make it. He had stumbled on the way but in the end, he'd thought he was done finding his place in this world, especially after helping Kakarott defeating Buu.

Yet, watching his son for endless weeks made him aware there had been something more to learn. That damn planet always had something new to teach.

In fact, giving a hand to defeat Buu by sacrificing his life had just been a way to kill his own Jabberwocky, and the past months had been a way to fulfill the void this killing had left in him, like a way to close the beast's grave once and for all and find his real place in this world.

Vegeta was staring at his boy's stern, blue eyes. Trunks seemed to be a normal young Earthling again, far from the cold, cynical hybrid who had killed freaky Gloria months ago. But what if Vegeta was missing something again?

Trunks gave him a shy, comforting smile.

Bulma's voice broke the silence all of a sudden. "Trunks, are you sure, you don't want… Huh… am I interrupting anything?" she asked, standing on the doorstep and gazing at her son and husband in disbelief.

Trunks beamed at her. "I was trying to hug Dad by surprise but he was giving his warning glare, so I guess you didn't interrupt much."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Trunks, just take at least one credit card, you never know," she resumed while handing out a plastic card to him.

"Mum, not that again. I have some money," the teenager sighed while grabbing his bag.

"Money? Hardly three nights in a rotten hotel and a few meals. Notes are unsafe to travel anyway, just take the card, you'll bless me later," Bulma insisted.

He grabbed his bag and dodged her hand holding the card as he headed to the door. "No way, Mum."

Bulma chased him down the corridor when he exited the room. Vegeta could hear their talk about the card echoing in the whole house as they stepped downstairs. He sighed and sat on the bed. He watched the empty room again. It felt so weird.

He'd never given a damn. True. Or maybe, he did a bit. A tiny bit. His son wasn't even out of the house but he was already gone, and it was a missing part of his world. A loss was always a loss and you often realized it when there's no turning back.

Bulla showed up and gave a shy peer at the room. She entered the place with a hesitant step, glancing at the bare walls. Her locks were tied up with white ribbons and she was wearing a white lacy summer dress. She was looking like a doll again. Maybe the world needed sweet dolls as much as mighty warriors after all.

"It's so empty and weird, now," the girl stated with a low voice. "Why did Trunks take all the pictures down? Does that mean he'll never come back?"

"I don't know, Princess," Vegeta answered softly.

She walked to him and hugged him in search of comfort. He gave a slight jump but did his best to hug her back. Since the Jabberwocky was gone from her world, she had turned much more affectionate and she needed her father's attention even more. Vegeta had realized that this was indeed her natural way of being. "I will miss him so much," she added.

"I know, we all will, I guess," he replied while patting her head.

"Let's' go say goodbye, then," she offered.

She grabbed the Saiyan's hand and pulled him up and out of the room. When they arrived in the hallway, Goten was there too. Bulma and him were laughing with Trunks as if nobody was sad about his departure. Bulma was especially good at pretending she was joyful and relaxed.

She hadn't suspected anything about that Jabberwocky. For her, it had all been in Bulla's head, because of that convenient _hypersensitivity_ , and the witch had been the one to put things right. Vegeta had been careful to hide the truth from his wife. It was for her own sake because she wouldn't have been able to deal with Trunks's issue. No Earthling would have.

Vegeta crossed his arms and watched each one hugging his son and waving frantically at him while he was disappearing in the clear sunny sky.

When he was gone Goten and Bulma still stood motionless for a while, gazing at the blank sky above. "I miss him already," Bulma murmured.

"I feel like following him so much," Goten replied in a sigh.

"You do? Huh, your parents are much smarter than me, they would never let go of you like that, especially Chichi," Bulma stated.

"Who knows? I think I could convince my mother and my father… Well, in fact, he never gives a damn."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and peered at the boy. _He never gives a damn._

Trunks had described Vegeta with the exact same words, but he wouldn't do it any longer. The Saiyan couldn't help an unwilling smile to stretch his lips. He'd done what he had to do, he had a hard time but he went through. It seemed that he'd been better than Kakarott for once, and it was all the more satisfying.

He was snatched out of his meditations by his daughter's excited voice. "Dad! Will you go for a dip with me? You promised you would teach me how to swim, remember?"

He looked down and met her hopeful eyes. He nodded and lifted her up to sit her on his shoulder. He was rewarded by her delighted chuckle and it sounded like a comforting music to his ears.

He had done exactly what he had to do and never would he let his kids say that he didn't give a damn.

 **ooo0ooooo0ooo**


End file.
